


Good Becomes Great

by hotchoco195



Series: Stevie Rogers [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Captain America: The First Avenger, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Roles, Gender or Sex Swap, Hydra (Marvel), Identity, Project Rebirth, Wellbeing, World War II, female!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotchoco195/pseuds/hotchoco195
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Project Rebirth doesn't go as expected. Steve's military career is over before it begun - but he's never been good at knowing when to quit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You wanna explain what the hell happened in there, doctor? That is not the super soldier you promised me!”

“I do not understand,” Erskine’s voice was rushed, much quieter than the colonel’s, “The serum has never produced this outcome before, not once in a thousand tests. It should not have even been possible-”

Philips gave a strangled laugh. “Forgive me if I’m not amazed by your scientific miracle, doc. I’m slightly hung up on the fact that our very expensive program just became a laughing stock! What the hell am I supposed to do with Rogers now?”

 Steve cringed and hugged himself – herself – tighter. Peggy shot the blonde a sympathetic glance, resting her hand lightly on the other woman’s knee.

“This is not quite the disaster you imagine, Colonel Philips. The serum’s other effects were as predicted; Mr Rogers has displayed enhanced speed and strength, his previous ailments gone. I would count that a success.”

“Success? You turned him into a woman!”

Steve flinched again and Peggy leaned in. “You don’t have to be here, you know. I could tell them you weren’t feeling well.”

“Thanks, but if they’re talking about me I’d like to hear it.”

She gave a wry smile and Steve blushed, shaking her head.

“I guess I should get used to that, huh? Being talked about.”

“What makes you say that?”

She shrugged. “I’m a failed experiment. They’ll want to poke around, figure out what went wrong. Get their money’s worth.”

“You could say no,” she met Steve’s gaze steadily, “Colonel Philips is right. They won’t put you in combat now. You’ll be discharged; you don’t have to stay here and be studied if you don’t want to. They can’t give you orders anymore.”

“Where else am I gonna go?” the blonde shrugged, “I can’t go home. What are people gonna think if I show up like ‘hi guys, remember me? I’m a dame now’.”

Peggy’s lips twitched into a grimace. “I’m so sorry this happened, Steven.”

“I…honestly I can’t even process it.”

“I can only imagine. No matter what happens with Colonel Philips, if you need anything I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Thanks, ma’am.” She smiled tiredly.

 

The colonel’s door banged open and the man himself glared at them. “Rogers, you are henceforth honourably discharged from the United States Army, and I don’t wanna hear another word about it. Now go with Dr Erskine so he can try to salvage the remaining shreds of his credibility. Carter, get in here.”

Peggy gave her a last concerned look and walked into the office, Dr Erskine passing her on the way out. The door slammed again and the German adjusted his glasses, smiling haphazardly at Steve.

“We can postpone the examination if you don’t feel up to it.”

“I’m fine.” Steve stood.

 “Follow me then.”

They headed through the halls, the doctor’s head down as if he was thinking. The MPs gave Steve strange looks as she passed, and she stared back levelly.

“I’m sorry you got in trouble with Philips,” she said, “I feel like it’s my fault.”

“Hmm? Oh no, Steven, there was no way we could have known this would happen. It is I who owes you an apology, for I fear you find yourself in a situation you never asked for.”

They reached a medical room and the doctor waved her in.

“Hey, it was a freak accident, right? I can’t blame you for that.”

Erskine’s smile was sad. “I feel you will blame me many times over the months and years to come. But enough of that – we have plenty of time for reflection later. Please take off your shoes and stand in front of the mirror.”

Steve complied, slipping the borrowed boots under a chair and positioning herself in the middle of the room. She looked at the unfamiliar face staring back at her – but it wasn’t so unfamiliar, really; same eyes, same stubborn lines of her chin, the same stern brows. The features might have been written with a different pen but they held the same expression. Her hair was longer, hanging just above her shoulders without a hint of a curl.

She was taller, head level with Erskine, but her arms and legs were lithe and well-muscled. She felt strong; for the first time in years she could breathe without pain, her heart pumping just as fast as it should. Steve wasn’t beautiful by any means but she was definitely not plain, and she felt like she could bench-press a truck or swim the Atlantic overnight. All in all, it wasn’t terrible; just different, and startling.

 

Erskine got out his tools and made a thorough catalogue of Steve’s physical state: blood pressure, eyesight, hearing, breathing, the works. Neither of them spoke but his hands were gentle, as if he still expected Steve to bruise from a light squeeze. When he’d finished, he waved the blonde to a chair and sat facing her, laying his stethoscope on the desk with a sigh.

“As you may have noticed, Colonel Philips is not impressed with the results of our work.”

“It wasn’t hard to miss.”

“It is important that we understand how it happened, not only for the future of the project but for your own wellbeing. I never anticipated the serum could have such a dramatic effect; the changes have gone past a superficial cellular level. They have altered the chromosomes at the very core of your DNA.”

Steve frowned. “Didn’t you say the formula had, uh, unintended physical effects on Schmidt?”

“Yes, to his skin pigmentation and soft tissue. I would suggest this is much more extreme.”

“I’m not gonna argue with ya.” Steve snorted.

“Can you think of any reason the transformation might have altered you so greatly?”

The blonde shook her head. “No.”

Erskine slid his glasses up his nose with a kind expression. “I know this is hard, but remember what I said last night: the serum only emphasises what was already there. Do you think this…could have some basis in your previous form?”

“You checked me out, doc,” Steve frowned, “Wouldn’t you have noticed if I had parts I wasn’t supposed to have?”

“Your anatomy was purely male, yes. That is why I am so confused.”

Steve bit her lip. Could she tell him? Could she afford not to, if it would help? After all, she was already a freak. Things couldn’t get worse.

“I…might know something. Not about my body, about my head.”

The doctor straightened. “Go on.”

“I always felt…” she took a breath, “Like there was somethin’ off, when I looked in the mirror. Like my outsides didn’t match my insides. Like I wasn’t that scrawny little guy.”

“You mean you felt like a woman?”

She screwed up her face. “I didn’t wanna wear dresses or date guys, if that’s what you’re askin’. I didn’t really understand it, but I certainly didn’t think it was anything to do with being the wrong gender. It was more than that. I felt wrong all over.”

“And now? How do you feel about being female?”

“It’s hard to say, with everything happening so fast.”

“Please try.” Erskine folded his hands on the table.

 

She clenched her fist on her knee, avoiding his gaze as she tried to focus only on how she felt, physically and emotionally.

“I feel like the whole world’s spinnin’, and I can’t get my feet under me. Everything’s different: everything about me, and how other people see me. My expectations for myself are all suddenly upside down. I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but at the same time…I feel amazing. I can’t remember a time I wasn’t sick. And I’m excited, and I think…maybe…maybe I fit this bag of bones better than my old one.”

“You’re not upset about the effects of the change?”

“Oh I probably will be about some of the consequences – Philips not letting me serve, for one. But I’m still me, right? Maybe more me than I’ve ever been. I…I’m a little disappointed I’m not the super soldier everybody wanted,” she waved a hand at herself, “But that was such a crazy idea anyway: I can’t feel too bad about it not working out. And this body’s still an improvement on who I was.”

Erskine smiled and patted her knee. “No, Steven. I think this courage and nobility have always been there. It is a very great privilege to know you.”

Steve blinked, swallowing back the emotion clenching her throat at his proud look. She shrugged. “Say, you wouldn’t have another bottle of that schnapps somewhere would ya?”

“I think, under the circumstances, I can find an appropriate substitute,” he stood, glancing back at the blonde, “You will most likely not be able to get inebriated though.”

“That’s okay, doc. I can still watch you do it.”

*****

Steve went to bed feeling very lonely and lost, hands clutching the covers as she stared at the ceiling. She could see every fine crack in the plaster, every smudge, every faded sun-bleached spot. Her new body was incredible, so much more than she’d imagined – but what did it matter? She wasn’t going to get a chance to use it for anything worthwhile. All Steve had wanted since the start of the war was to help people, and the army would never let her anywhere near the frontline now.

But Peggy was a woman, and she served. There were other girls in the SSR, secretaries and codebreakers and nurses. There had to be something Steve could do. She knew Erskine wanted to run more tests but honestly it sounded like the flaw in the experiment had been Steve, not the serum. She should probably feel bad about that, but it was hard to feel sorry when her legs didn’t cramp and her back didn’t ache and her ears were clear for the first time in her life.

One thing was certain: she wasn’t going to disappear back into civilian life. How could she, after this? How could she pretend to be a regular dame and hide her abilities, and lie to everyone about who she was? No matter what happened, she was going to make something of herself. This could be a fresh start, as long as it was on Steve’s terms.

 

She was fussing with the zip on her skirt when someone knocked.

“Steve?”

“Agent Carter?” the blonde frowned.

“Colonel Philips wants to see you. Are you decent?”

“Uh, I will be.”

There was a pause. “Do you need some assistance?”

“No, I can get it.” Her hand slipped, the zipper snapping with a twang, and she cursed.

The door opened and Peggy walked in. Steve tried to cover herself for a moment before realising that was stupid, letting her arms fall with a sigh.

“I didn’t expect this to be so difficult.”

Peggy eyed her up. “You’ve done well though. Your stockings are a little crooked at the back but everything else seems to be in order.”

She shook out a bundle of dark cloth, holding it so Steve could see.

“I brought you some trousers. I thought they might be more comfortable. It took me awhile to find some in your size but these should fit, I hope.”

The blonde gave a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

She handed them over and turned away, seemingly admiring the view from the window as Steve changed out of the ruined skirt and nylons. The blonde cleared her throat when she was ready and Peggy glanced over, smiling.

“Would you like some help with your hair?”

“If you could just get it off my face, maybe? I don’t feel like much of a soldier with it swingin’ in my eyes.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Sit down.”

She picked up a brush and started combing it back into a ponytail with careful strokes. Steve watched in the mirror, concentrating on her actions so she could replicate them later. “I’m gonna have to learn how to do everything all over again, aren’t I?”

“Most things, though I assume you can still feed yourself adequately.” She smirked, eyes twinkling.

“I wish my Ma was here. God, I don’t think I’ve ever needed her more.”

“You’re not alone, Steve. We won’t abandon you.”

“You wanna bet? Philips can’t wait to get rid of me.”

“Ah, but you aren’t one of his men any more, are you? He has renounced his claim on you.”

Steve caught her eye in the mirror. “Agent Carter…I’ve been thinking.”

 

The two women marched into Philips’ office to find him behind his desk, trawling through paperwork with a lit cigar smoking away in his ashtray. Erskine sat on one side of the room, hands in his lap with an unimpressed look. Steve and Peggy stood to attention and waited to be acknowledged.

The colonel flipped a few more pages, Steve’s jaw twitching as she tried not to snap at him. She didn’t technically have to obey him now she’d been discharged, but she didn’t want to piss him off when she needed a favour. Finally he closed his folder and set it aside, eyeing her in silence. Philips tapped his fingers on the desk and sighed, leaning forward.

“Miss Rogers, the army would like to apologise for the unforeseeable consequences of your participation in our program. You will of course be offered due compensation for the inconvenience. In addition, we will provide you with a new identity and the necessary references to find yourself a place of residence and a job, in exchange for your continued cooperation with Dr Erskine and your…discretion.”

“Thank you sir, but I’ve already been offered a position.”

“Oh really? Do elaborate.”

Peggy raised her chin. “Miss Rogers is going to train as an SSR agent.”

“On whose authority?” Philips scowled.

“I sent a telegram to London this morning. Miss Rogers will have no trouble meeting the physical or mental requirements for the role, and she has already shown herself capable of living under military regulations.”

“I understand that in times of war we make exceptions about who serves our great nation, but Rogers is not one of your expert operatives, Agent Carter,” Colonel Philips drawled, “And you cannot hope to make her one before the end of this conflict. Not to mention she’s completely untested in the field of battle – we don’t know the full extent of the serum’s effects.”

“I’m standing right here, sir.” Steve’s brow twitched.

“Good, then I don’t have repeat myself when I say it’s not gonna happen.”

Peggy set her shoulders grimly. “Colonel, Miss Rogers has completed basic training, and with her unique talents I doubt it will take long to get her up to speed on anything else she needs to know. And besides, sir, you are forgetting her greatest asset to the agency.”

“And what would that be? It’s not her looks, I can tell ya.”

She smiled. “Anonymity. Miss Rogers is a ghost, colonel, with no background. Who would possibly connect her to the man Steven Rogers, an unknown private from Brooklyn with a poor medical history and no living relations? She can become anyone we choose.”

Philips glared at Steve, but his mouth was pursed thoughtfully. “You think you’ve got what it takes to spy and sneak around? You’re not exactly inconspicuous with all that muscle on ya.”

“I won’t sit on the sidelines and wait out this war, sir. I want to do whatever I can, and I won’t stop until I’ve done it. I don’t think you would go to all the trouble to make me like this and then waste it just because I’m not the guy you thought I would be. I can still make a difference.”

“I oughta throw you both out of here right now for goin’ over my head,” he growled, “But you’re right, Rogers. You’re not the soldier I wanted. My interest in you is negligible, except in how much of a pain in my ass this whole situation is turning into. If Carter wants to take you, it’s fine with me – the sooner this is not my problem, the better.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Philips smiled bitterly. “Don’t thank me, Miss Rogers. If you thought your life was hard before, you’re about to be thoroughly corrected.”

*****

Peggy turned off the main road and pulled through a pair of tall gates, heading up the drive to a large three-storey house with ivy around the windows and rolling green lawns. Steve peered through the windshield nervously.

“What is this place?”

The agent grinned. “It purports to be a finishing school for proper young ladies – I suppose it is, though the curriculum is rather unconventional.”

They drove around the side of the house to a long open carport with half a dozen vehicles parked in a line. Peggy stopped the car and climbed out, Steve following quickly while trying not to accidentally crush the door handle or dent the panels. The two women headed up the gravel path to a back door where an older woman stood waiting for them. She looked like a dancer, tall and slender with steel grey hair in a bun and a cardigan draped over her shoulders.

“Miss Carter, Miss Rogers – welcome.”

“Steve, this is Mrs Frost. She runs the Academy.”

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Steve nodded, “I’m grateful to you for taking me on like this.”

“From what Miss Carter tells me, you’ll be an asset to our school,” the headmistress smiled, “Come in and we’ll show you around.”

Steve followed her down a short hall. They passed a couple of doorways, one leading to a big stone-floored kitchen, one to a similarly bare laundry. The group entered a two-storey foyer with a large wooden staircase, the carpet runner well-worn.

“Most of our young ladies come to us by more traditional means – from schools and universities, various branches of the armed services or recruitment programs. They only need to be taught the secrets of our craft. You, however, are quite the exception. We’ll do our best to teach you everything you need to know about being a woman _and_ a spy.”

“I think you’ll find there’s quite an overlap.” Peggy smirked.

Mrs Frost started up the stairs. “Classes and meals take place on the ground floor, and the dormitories are upstairs. You’ll be sharing a room with three other girls, all older students who should be able to give you extra help if you need it.”

“Sharing?” Steve glanced at Peggy worriedly, throat feeling tight.

Frost stopped on the landing, lips pursed. “Is that a problem? I assume you shared quarters with your fellow soldiers.”

“Yeah - I mean yes, ma’am, but they were guys, not…” she raised her brows pleadingly, praying one of them would jump in before she had to say it.

The headmistress laughed. “Ah, I see. I suppose you don’t have any sisters, Miss Rogers?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Female cousins? Girlfriends?”

Steve felt like her face couldn’t get any redder. “No, ma’am.”

“So the only woman you have ever lived with was your mother,” Frost smiled kindly, “Then I understand how it may seem daunting to find yourself behind the veil, as it were. But there is no need to worry; this is not enemy territory, Miss Rogers. You belong here. You are one of us now, and we will do whatever we can to welcome you and help you adjust.”

“It’ll be fine, Steve.” Peggy said in her reassuring voice, a tone that conveyed both warmth and ironclad certainty and made Steve feel like nothing bad could ever happen as long as the brunette was around.

“Well, now that’s settled, shall we meet your roommates?”

 

Mrs Frost led them upstairs and along another corridor with one large window at the end. The doors were all open, and as they passed Steve could see neatly made beds and clean white bedside drawers, the footlockers covered in thin pink blankets. It couldn’t have looked more like an ordinary boarding school, except for the total lack of mess or clutter. Most of the rooms were empty, but she saw a couple of students reading and one who looked like she was copying out coded lines from a bible covered in pinpricks.

They stopped at a door near the end and Mrs Frost knocked on the wall. The three girls inside snapped to attention at the sound, standing with their arms clasped behind them. Peggy subtly shoved Steve inside and closed the door behind them, the blonde cringing as three pairs of curious eyes turned to her.

“Ladies, this is Miss Rogers. I am counting on you to help her adapt as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.” They answered.

Mrs Frost turned to Steve. “It’s better if you go by Stephanie while you’re here. I’m sorry if it’s distasteful, but discretion is paramount in our circles. The less people aware of your unique origins, the better.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

The older woman studied her carefully for a minute, as if to reassure herself Steve wasn’t going to protest, and then nodded. “Supper is at seven – keep in mind, I hold our young ladies to the highest standards of punctuality and presentation. I’ll let Agent Carter give you a rundown of your schedule. Until then, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, Mrs Frost.”

The matron let herself out, and Peggy placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m going to bring your things up from the car. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

The blonde frowned. “I should carry them.”

“No, stay and get to know your bunkmates,” Peggy smiled, ignoring the fear that flashed across Steve’s features, “I’m sure they’ve got plenty to tell you before supper.”

She left, closing the door again, and Steve clutched one wrist nervously behind her back where no one could see. The girls had relaxed a bit now their superiors were gone, coming closer. The one nearest Steve was built like a gymnast, with very thick dark hair pulled back savagely into a braid that did little to contain it. She offered her hand.

“Hi. I’m Diane Sutton. This is Molly Spiers, and Velma Jacobson.”

Molly was a petite brunette with a bouncy ponytail and a cute, girlish face that seemed almost too-innocent; Steve was sure she didn’t want to tangle with the smaller woman, even with the super serum’s help. Velma was a curvaceous redhead with an impish nose and heavy-lidded eyes that belied the sharp gaze she swept over Steve. The former soldier held her breath, expecting a disdainful sneer – but instead Velma broke into a huge, mischievous smile that made Steve immediately like her.

“Finally, someone with a sense of humour.”

Steve grinned. “What makes you think that?”

“I can tell these things.” The redhead winked.

“Behave, Velma. Stephanie only just got here – no getting her involved in your pranks.” Diane scowled.

“Would I do something like that?” she popped her mouth in a wide, mock-astonished ‘o’.

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve joked, “I get myself into enough trouble as it is. I’m not lookin’ for more.”

“Is that how you wound up here?” Velma lay on her bed, stretching herself along the mattress like a satisfied cat.

“Don’t answer that,” Diane interrupted, “We’re not supposed to talk about who we were before we got here.”

“Oh lighten up, _Mother_.” Velma scoffed.

“No, she’s right,” Steve gave an apologetic look, “Let’s just say I never know when to walk away from a challenge.”

Molly smiled. “You’ll fit right in then.”

*****

The Academy’s schedule was gruelling enough for Steve’s classmates; for her, it was even worse. She got up at 4am to train with Peggy while everyone else was still asleep, testing the limits of her new body and relearning how to fight. She ran laps of the grounds and bench-pressed boulders and spent hours working on her balance and stamina and aim, though none of them really needed the practice. Steve had been trained to fight like a soldier, with a gun and a bayonet; that was quickly discarded in favour of close quarters moves that did maximum damage in the least amount of time, throws and holds and takedowns that were discreet and lightning-fast.

At 5 the other students started their own daily exercise and combat lessons. Steve wouldn’t have joined them, but Peggy insisted.

“You need more opponents who don’t know your strength so you can work on your control and get used to hiding it when necessary. It might save your life someday.”

“I don’t like it, ma’am. I’ve got an unfair advantage. It feels like cheating.”

Peggy gave her a scathing look. “And will you harbour similar remorse about using your abilities against the enemy?”

The blonde shuffled her feet. “No.”

“Then why feel it now? After all, if you’re holding back the way you should, the advantage won’t exist.”

Steve, as usual, couldn’t argue with Peggy’s logic, and spent the morning training refining exactly how much force she put into her attacks.

After training the girls showered and changed, and Steve tried to pay close attention to her roommates’ grooming routines without being obvious. At first the whole thing was overwhelming; the other students weren’t exactly shy about walking around in towels or underthings, chatting to each other as they dressed. Steve felt shy and self-conscious, and a bit pervy, but since everyone else acted like it was the most normal thing in the world, eventually even she managed to relax about it. She even got brave enough to ask Diane to teach her to braid her hair. And she took at least ten minutes every day before she bathed to stretch and feel out her new muscles, the new lengths of her limbs (and when nobody was looking, she felt the curves of her modest bosom and the sturdy splay of her hips, and smiled).

They spent the rest of the day on tradecraft and protocol. After supper Steve met with Peggy again to work on relearning basic skills: applying makeup, female clothing, how women were expected to sit and stand and walk. She learned to move around in heels, including running and fighting. There was one very embarrassing lesson on female reproductive systems; normally Steve wouldn’t have minded the anatomy talk (her Ma _was_ a nurse) but this was Peggy, and for some reason it felt uncomfortably like being lectured by a big sister when Steve’s thoughts were…more complicated.

 

She wasn’t sure how she felt about the other woman. Steve enjoyed the time they spent alone, looked forward to those friendly chats when she never needed to lie about who she was or what she could do. And she was intensely grateful to Peggy for giving her something to do, a way to be useful, and for believing in Steve even before the experiment, and for treating her so kindly and with unwavering acceptance that made the blonde keep trying whenever she felt it was too hard to unlearn the habits she’d had since childhood.

They were working on perfecting eyeliner, a concept Steve felt must have been invented by a sadist, when she managed to stab herself in the eye for what felt like the hundredth time. She threw the pencil down in disgust.

“Why can’t I do this? Every other girl here can manage. It should be simple but I feel like my fingers are made of sausages or something.”

Peggy sat on the edge of the vanity, facing her. “They’ve just had more practice than you. Try again.”

Steve pouted. “Peggy, what if I never get it? What if it’s just too late for me, and I end up being a failure as a woman? It’s not like I can turn back into a guy. I don’t wanna get stuck as a frumpy old maid with lipstick on her teeth that other people feel sorry for. I don’t want to be some pathetic lost person, not a man or a woman, just an odd mix of both.”

The brunette laughed. “You’re one of the stubbornest people I know. You’re not going to let yourself fail now, just like you didn’t let yourself fail in basic training even though you were surrounded by bigger, stronger men. Now, try again.”

She sighed and picked up the pencil, pausing. Peggy was watching her patiently, her smile somehow a combination of comforting older sister and the complete faith of a supportive C.O. Steve felt so at home with her that she thought nothing of reaching out and resting a hand on the agent’s knee.

The other woman’s mouth twitched, and her jaw tightened as she gently lifted Steve’s hand into both of hers.

“Steve, we should probably talk about how things stand between us.”

The blonde cringed. “Uh, right. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable-”

“It’s not that. I just…well, we haven’t spoken about how the experiment affected your sexuality. Do you mind if I ask a few questions?”

“For Dr Erskine’s notes?”

“More for myself.” She dropped her gaze, flushing.

“Oh,” Steve said quietly, “Um, sure.”

“Are you attracted to women?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean it feels different but I think that’s just cos I’m not used to the way my body reacts now when I uh, see someone I like. It’s harder to tell.”

“That’s understandable. What about men?”

 

“Maybe?” Steve frowned, “I know I should be, in theory, but it’s a new idea for me. My brain still kinda throws up this expectation that I’m gonna get smacked in the mouth for asking a guy to dance, and then I remember I’m not supposed to do the askin’ anyway.”

“Did you ever feel attracted to a man before Project Rebirth?”

She hesitated and Peggy’s grip tightened.

“It’s alright, Steve. I won’t judge.”

“I know,” she said, “We had a couple of neighbours like that, and I got along with them fine. I’m just not sure I ever bothered to look at a guy that way, you know? I liked girls, so I didn’t think to check if I liked guys too. It would have made things complicated.”

“What about your friend Sergeant Barnes?”

Steve burst out laughing. “Are you kidding? That idiot? He’s like my brother.”

She shrugged. “It might be easy to mistake a crush for brotherhood, if you weren’t looking for it.”

“Trust me, Peg, I have known that guy too long and too well to even think about goin’ steady with him,” She sat back, tapping the eye pencil against her palm, “As for the whole romance question…I was waiting for the right person, and I guess I can keep doin’ that. Whether they’re a gal or a guy doesn’t make much of a difference if they’re the right one.”

Peggy nodded, looking away again. “I thought…before, at Camp Lehigh, I thought you might be interested in me.”

“I was. And I was kinda hopin’ you were interested in me too.”

“I was.” The brunette suddenly met her gaze, eyes bright and piercing.

Steve bit her lip thoughtfully, and decided to follow her hunch. “Are you still interested?”

Peggy took a breath. “Yes. But the situation has changed.”

“Right,” Steve grimaced, pulling away, “This whole being a dame thing – I can see how that would make you hesitate.”

“I don’t care about that.”

The other woman raised a brow. “Really?”

Peggy blushed. “It wouldn’t be the first time. But I have never been with someone under my command, and I prefer to keep it that way.”

“I get that.”

“And more importantly, I think you have too much to deal with right now to consider being with anyone,” she gave the blonde a wistful look, “New powers, new body, your training – you don’t need me as a lover. I’ll be much more useful as your friend.”

Steve hung her head. “You’re right. I hate that you’re right, but I guess I should be used to it by now.”

Peggy leaned in and cupped Steve’s face in one hand, stroking her thumb over the smooth skin of her cheek. “Who knows? Maybe once the war’s over, we’ll be able to come back to this and see if there’s still something there.”

“I think I’d like that.” The blonde smiled.

Peggy returned it warmly and moved away, facing the mirror. “Now, try again.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve walked into the bar and stopped, glancing around as if looking for someone. After a moment she meandered towards the bar, placing her clutch on the stained wooden surface a few feet away from a couple of men in German uniforms. She was careful not to look at them, but she could see from the corner of her eye as one of them elbowed the other and nodded towards her.

The bartender walked over. “Can I help you, miss?”

“I’ll have a white wine, thank you.”

One of the soldiers slid closer, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “It’s on me, fraulein.”

Steve gave a very small smile. “Thank you sir, but I can’t accept a drink from a strange man – even a handsome one.”

“Then we will not be strangers,” he straightened, offering his hand, “Captain Wilhelm Baasch. And you are?”

She had to admire his style. “Ada.”

“An enchanting name for an enchanting lady.” His gaze raked over her navy blue dress that didn’t hide strong arms and legs. Steve had felt a little self-conscious at times around the Academy’s daintier agents, but Captain Baasch didn’t seem to mind if she was built more like an athlete than a Hollywood bombshell.

The barkeep placed her wine on the counter and turned to Captain Baasch. “And you, officer?”

 “Another whisky,” he said without taking his eyes off Steve, “May I join you, Fraulein Ada?”

“I’m supposed to be meeting a friend.”

Baasch looked around, hands raised speculatively. “I do not see them. At least allow me to keep you company until they arrive.”

Steve twitched her lips. “What about your companion there?”

The captain scoffed. “He’ll amuse himself.”

 “Then I suppose you can join me, just until my friend arrives.”

He laughed. “You’re awfully cautious, Ada.”

“My mother warned me about soldiers.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

Steve leaned in with a smirk. “They’re only interested in one thing - conquest.”

He laughed, clutching his stomach. “She wasn’t wrong, my dear. But I promise to behave myself.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

 

They sat at a booth in the corner, the officer making sure to stay close while maintaining a thin gap between them, playing the gentleman. Steve didn’t mind; the less time she had to spend fawning over him, the better.

“I haven’t seen you around town, fraulein.”

“I only arrived last week. I’m looking after my cousin.”

“She’s ill?”

Steve grimaced. “Tuberculosis.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.”

The blonde shrugged. “I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” Baasch gave an indulgent nod, as if celebrating his own consideration, “What shall we talk about instead?”

“Tell me about yourself.” Steve leaned closer.

“I am just a soldier, with soldier’s woes.”

“That can’t be true. Where are you from?”

“Regensburg, on the Dunărea. It’s lovely there, surrounded by forest.”

She smiled. “It sounds charming.”

“It’s no Berlin or Munich, but it’s a nice place. Certainly bigger than this.”

“I’ve never been to a big city.”

“You must,” Baasch grinned, “They have so many wonderful tall buildings.”

“I suppose you’ve seen lots, being an officer. You must travel all over the country.”

“All over Europe, fraulein!”

Steve made an appropriately impressed sound and lowered her lashes coyly. “I’m sure this place is completely dull by comparison.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Baasch laughed, “It’s a little soon to say. I too am new in these parts.”

“Really?”

“My squad and I arrived two months ago. Not long enough to get sick of it.”

“I didn’t know there was a fort nearby.” Steve said innocently.

“Because there isn’t, fraulein.” He tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially.

Steve bit her lip shyly, looking away. Let him think she was overwhelmed by his cleverness – after a couple more drinks, she’d have him tripping over himself to prove it.

 

Steve poured another beer, pushing it into the captain’s hand. “I really should be going, sir.”

“But your friend hasn’t come yet.”

“She must have been held up,” Steve insisted, “But I can’t be away from my poor cousin so long.”

Baasch huffed, sliding a finger under her chin. “She is sick, yes? Probably sleeping. Your company will mean a lot more to me.”

Steve pursed her lips, inwardly scoffing at his sudden lack of concern for her imaginary cousin. “I guess one more drink couldn’t hurt.”

“That’s the spirit!” he leaned back, swigging from his glass as he shot her a bleary look.

Steve was acutely aware how overwhelming a pretty girl’s attention could be, and Baasch was tipsy – not too drunk, but definitely looser than an officer should be, especially in a lady’s company. If she wanted information, now was the time to get it. She wriggled closer until she could press her thigh against his, resting a hand so the fingertips just touched his arm.

“Tell me, Wilhelm: what are you a captain of?”

“Well, Fraulein Ada, I am in charge of some men at a factory.”

“Some men?”

He frowned, puffing out his chest as he put an arm around her shoulders. “Lots. Dozens – hundreds.”

“That sounds awfully important.”

He nodded gravely. “Vital.”

“What do they make?”

Baasch looked up from his beer, blinking at her. “Hmm?”

“What do they make at the factory?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something to do with electricity – scientific nonsense, if you ask me. It’s soldiers who will win the war, not toys. Especially not with those Americans sabotaging the work.”

“Americans?” Steve kept her voice breathy, though her nerves buzzed at the word.

“Mm yes, prisoners. Captured at Azzano with barely a fight. Here, I have a souvenir.”

He fished into the pouch on his belt and held out a small brass button. Steve took it carefully, turning it so the light fell on the regiment’s number – 107.

The blonde felt like she’d been smacked in the diaphragm with a steel girder. She stared at the metal, rubbing a thumb over the familiar design, barely noticing that Baasch was still speaking.

“Fraulein?”

“Hmm?” she looked up sharply, “Oh, I’m sorry. I was thinking about how far away America is, and this little thing made it all the way across the sea to us.”

He gave an understanding smile. “The world is a big wide place, Ada, but we are making it smaller. Soon the Reich flag will fly over their towers and fields. Maybe you’ll get to see it.”

He squeezed her against him and Steve schooled her face into a careful smile as she wiggled out of his grasp, shifting down the bench. “I think I really should be going, captain. It’s late.”

“Just one more drink, hmm?”

Steve shook her head. “I can’t. Maybe another time?”

“I look forward to it.”

She held out the pin and he waved a hand.

“Keep it, fraulein - until we meet again.”

 

Steve gave another shy smile and stood, glancing over her shoulder at him as she reached the door. She could barely breathe as she left the bar, stopping once she’d rounded the corner of the building. She pressed a hand to her stomach, fighting the rising panic. Just because the 107th had been attacked did not mean Bucky was in trouble. He was probably perfectly fine and bored as hell. Steve had to concentrate on her mission, but it was hard when all she could think about was her friends in the hands of the enemy – or worse.

As soon as she reached her room Steve scrawled a message to Peggy, hands shaking so much she had to try twice before she had something legible. _Baasch aware of HYDRA factory location and layout. Mentioned capture of 107 th – confirm status of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes._

There were no radios in the village, but there was a farm a couple of miles out where a friendly contact could pass along Steve’s intel. She made the dusty walk to drop off her note, dawdling on her way back into town. No one at the Academy had mentioned that spying could be boring, even in wartime – there was so much waiting around and maintaining cover. This wasn’t what she wanted; she wanted to be at the head of the action, charging into trenches and cutting a swathe through the Axis lines. But at least she was doing something, instead of working in some diner or telephone exchange back in Brooklyn.

A couple of days later she received an answer in the margin of her morning paper. _Meet with Baasch and retrieve information about the facility. 107 th intel correct – high casualty rate. Barnes’ status unknown. Facility too far behind the line to investigate further._

Steve bit her lip and stared in disbelief at the message. They weren’t going to do anything? They were just abandoning those soldiers to whatever horrors HYDRA had planned for them. And Bucky…Bucky might be there. He might be dead too, but Steve didn’t want to think about that.

Logically the blonde understood it was foolish to waste more lives crossing into enemy territory on a rescue that might already be too late, but she couldn’t stand the thought that Bucky could be there, alone and afraid and maybe in pain. If their roles were reversed the brunette would do whatever it took to save Steve, just like he always had. What was the point of being strong and fast if she couldn’t use it to help the one person who really mattered, now when he finally needed her?

She hurriedly scribbled a footnote. _Request permission to attempt an extraction myself._

A day later, Peggy’s reply arrived. _Request denied by Colonel Philips. Continue working Baasch._

 

Steve knew what a good agent would do: follow orders, keep their head down, gather as much intel as possible and pass it on to the people who could use it. But she wasn’t an ordinary agent. She had skills that were going to waste while she flirted with Germans and sat around the house. Philips didn’t want her anywhere near the real fighting, and if she disobeyed him she wouldn’t be the only one in trouble – Peggy had vouched for her, and Steve’s actions would be seen as a failure on her part. Steve couldn’t do that to Peggy, not after she’d given her a chance.

There was something though…Peggy’s message was very specific. _Colonel Philips_ denied Steve’s request. Not SSR command. Not Agent Carter herself. She knew how much Bucky meant to Steve; she had to know how worried Steve was. Maybe she was trying to give the blonde a subtle nudge.

And what was Steve going to do? March into enemy territory and bust the captives out single-handedly? Without Philips’ backing she had no transport, no heavy weaponry, no maps or intel, and no reinforcements if she ran into trouble. She’d be alone, David facing the HYDRA Goliath, except David won that match and the chances of Steve doing the same were slim.

Still, that had never stopped her jumping into a fight before.

 

Steve placed the brass button on the bar next to Captain Baasch’s glass. “Hello again.”

“Fraulein Ada!” he looked up, “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“I was getting restless shut up in the house, and I thought maybe you would be here.”

Baasch smiled, and Steve almost felt sorry for him. How did someone so gullible make it to a command position?

“In fact,” she continued, “I wanted to ask you something – if it’s not too forward.”

He turned to face her. “Go on, fraulein.”

“Well…your factory, it’s outside of town?”

“Yes, quite a way out.”

“So you have a car to travel back and forth.”

“Of course. It’s very fast – perhaps you’d like a ride?” he leered, glancing down the front of her dress.

“I thought maybe we could go for a picnic in the woods. I haven’t had a chance to see them yet, and I don’t like the thought of going out there alone when there might be soldiers about. I’d feel quite safe with you though.”

“I’d be delighted to escort you, Fraulein Ada. I shall pick you up tomorrow at noon, yes?”

Steve smiled. “Perfect.”

*****

Sitting on the grass in the silent woods, Steve could almost forget it was a warzone; it was so peaceful and pretty, and the birds didn’t seem to care about human troubles as they twittered away. The hours slipped by serenely, Steve pretending to be tipsy as Baasch emptied one bottle of wine and half of another, the soldier’s head resting in her lap while he rambled on about the lack of parties and dancing and how much he missed Berlin.

She wasn’t sure what she was going to do about him; it was reckless to burn a good source by exposing herself, but she needed an excuse to get away from him before it got dark and he insisted on driving her home. Perhaps it was best to just make her exit and leave him thinking something had happened to her; he wouldn’t be able to go back to town until he’d had a decent search of the woods, which gave her more than enough time to get to the HYDRA facility before Baasch thought to raise the alarm. If she needed to keep playing Ada, she could always invent an injury or something to explain it.

“Another glass, my darling?” Baasch reached for the bottle.

“I think I’ve already had too many. If you’ll excuse me a moment?”

“Don’t wander too far – it’s easy to get lost here.”

She gave him a beatific smile and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

He sat up to let her stand, and Steve slipped off between the trees. She picked her way through the scrubby undergrowth until she reached a large area of tall pines without much ground cover. The blonde sped up then, long strides eating up the distance, her flat boots not exactly ideal for running a marathon but practical enough that she wasn’t worried about rolling an ankle. She kept her eyes on her surrounds and sprinted, breathing as calm as if she was dead still.

After about fifteen minutes Steve reached an open roadway that cut through the forest, just a bare earth track but definitely well-used. She hid herself behind a tree and assessed the situation. It was late afternoon, dim in the shade of the woods but not dark. There might be traffic heading to the base before they locked up for the night. She hunkered down against the pine and waited, eyes on the horizon.

Finally she heard a soft rumble, and then a troop transport appeared. She couldn’t tell how many soldiers were inside but the truck was only small, so she shouldn’t be too outnumbered, and she had surprise on her side. She yanked a long strip off the bottom of her skirt and tore her neckline so it revealed a good portion of her chest, scooping a bit of dirt in her hands. She rubbed it over her face and neck, and barrelled out into the road in a clumsy, stumbling run. Steve shrieked and threw up a hand as the transport jerked to a halt.

The passenger door opened and a soldier jumped out, his face hidden in a helmet that looked like a gas mask. He had one hand on his gun, but his posture was relaxed as he crept towards her.

“Fraulein?”

“Please!” Steve gasped, “You’ve got to help me.”

“What happened?” the soldier took another step, “Are you hurt?”

The blonde clutched at her chest and staggered, bringing him within arm’s reach. “I was attacked!”

“Attacked?” his grip on the gun wavered, “By who?”

 

Steve grabbed the rifle and slammed it into his jaw with a sickening snap, immediately spinning it in her grip to rest the butt against her shoulder. She’d loosed two shots into the driver before his comrade finished falling. He slumped over the wheel and Steve hurried forward, staying close to the side of the truck as the people inside shouted. A spurt of machine gun fire ripped through the canvas and she threw herself flat, rolling under the vehicle to come up on the other side. Steve fired blindly into the covering and the shooting stopped.

She carefully skirted around to check for survivors. There were three men sprawled over the benches and floor, and she couldn’t hear any breathing. She picked the smallest soldier and stripped off his uniform, putting it on over her dress. Steve armed herself as much as she could, layering bandoliers over her chest, and threw the driver and the one she’d killed on the road in the back with the others. She put on one of their helmets and climbed into the cab. Her rounds had broken the side window; she punched out the last of the glass and hoped no one would notice a stray shard.

The blonde drove straight, and before long the base loomed ahead. Steve could make out a tall wire fence with a couple of sentry towers and a large factory-like building surrounded by some smaller annexes. She kept her foot steady on the gas as she neared the gate, ready to burst through if she needed to. A soldier stepped forward from his post by the entrance but she gave a friendly salute and he didn’t stop her – she supposed the transport was expected. The yard was full of armoured tanks but there were a line of trucks near a loading dock and Steve stopped at the quieter end, cutting the engine.

She climbed out and closed the door nonchalantly, walking around the building. She hoped no one paid the truck any notice, because once they found the bodies her cover would be blown. She needed to find Bucky and his men before that happened, and the most likely place to keep a bunch of unruly prisoners was in the huge warehouse-type structure. Steve found a side door and slipped in.

There were more guards on patrol but in her borrowed uniform no one questioned her right to be there, and Steve walked freely into a cavernous room full of what looked like turbines and bricks of something that glowed a strange, unsettling beautiful blue. There were some smaller units on a table and she pocketed one to take back (if she got back). There were men here in army colours, working at the turbines and eyeing the HYDRA troops with a deep, resolute hatred. These were the POWs, then.

Steve did a quick headcount. Maybe eighty prisoners that she could see, and as many guards ranging around the floor and gantries. If she could arm the captives they’d handle their keepers, but she couldn’t turn them loose now without getting most of them slaughtered. They needed to wait until most of the guards had gone off duty. She left the room by a door on the other side, and discreetly searched for a place to wait it out.

 

It was another couple of hours before the factory noises died down, and from Steve’s hiding spot in a supply cupboard she could hear the tramp of hundreds of boots as the soldiers moved their prisoners into their cells for the night. She waited longer, though she itched to get moving, barely breathing as she let them settle in for a peaceful watch.

When the corridor had been quiet for a while, Steve slipped out. There was a door near the end with a guard on either side and a small window; as she got closer she could see more guards pacing inside. She kept her gait confident and purposeful, seemingly just passing through, and as she drew level with the door she suddenly threw a gloved fist into the nearest guard’s temple, denting the metal of his helmet. His companion gave a surprised cry and tried to raise his weapon, but Steve had already followed through with her swing and her elbow clipped the soldier in the throat. With another quick punch he flopped to the floor on top of his friend, and she wrenched the door open.

Two guards were walking across a floor punctuated by grated holes; Steve snuck up behind the closest and slung her arm around his neck, twisting with the other until she heard a quick pop. He fell and then she was behind his partner, levelling him with a slug to the back of the head. He fell against the grate with a clang and Steve knelt, rummaging at his waist for the keys.

“Hey Fritz - you know he was one of yours, right?”

Steve looked down at the speaker, a man in a bowler hat smirking up at her without hesitation. The other prisoners were watching uncertainly, shifting their weight and drawing back to the edge of the cage. She took off her helmet with a smile.

“It’s okay, boys. I’m not one of his.”

The bold man chuckled. “Wahoo, now there’s somethin’ you don’t see every day. Am I dreamin’?”

“Not unless we all are.” Said one of his companions.

“Mass hallucination?” someone else suggested.

Steve glanced at the door; they didn’t have time for this. “I’m coming down. Catch.”

She tossed them the keys and took the metal bars in hand, stretching them apart with a groan until there was enough of a gap for her to fall through. She landed lightly on her feet to find most of them staring at her, but at least the cocky guy had the sense to start unlocking the door.

“What are you, some kind of circus freak?” a redheaded corporal stared at the hole she’d made.

“Somethin’ like that.”

Together they got the rest of the cells unlocked, the men filing out quietly. Steve glanced around, but couldn’t see the face she wanted.

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.”

An Englishman in a red cap answered her. “There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.”

She clenched her jaw. “Alright. The tree line is northwest, eighty yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. I’ll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I find.”

A private on her left sneered. “Yeah right. Like we’re gonna take orders from _you_.”

Steve stepped towards him. “You got a problem?”

“I don’t know who you are, lady, but you’re no C.O. What do you know about fightin’?”

She grabbed him by the lapel and lifted him one-handed, the soldier’s legs kicking fitfully as she raised him over her head.

“I know it involves a lot less squawkin’ and a lot more doing. If you’re uncomfortable following instructions from a woman, then you’re welcome to stay here coolin’ your heels in a HYDRA prison while your friends make it out. Otherwise, shut up and get moving.”

She dropped him and he scuttled away, eyes wide and fearful. Steve glanced around to find most of the men were giving her stunned looks, with a couple of impressed ones thrown in. She locked eyes with the soldier in the bowler and he smiled.

“Doll, you could be a ten foot giraffe in a tutu and it would make no difference to me. Thanks to you, we’re goin’ home.”

“Try not to get killed on the way.” Steve threw back cheerfully, jogging for the exit.

 

She bolted through the halls and burst into the factory; the guards turned on her with a shout, weapons discharging with a high whine. Steve ducked and slammed her shoulder into the nearest man, yanking his gun out of his hands as his head whipped back into the wall. She used the weapon like a baton, battering her way through the soldiers who came at her, and fired back. Already she could hear cries and explosions outside and now an alarm sounded, echoing through the hall.

Steve kicked a HYDRA flunky and he shot into the men behind him, all three going down in a tangle. She vaulted over a table and flipped it up as a shield before shoving it so hard it slid across the floor and swept her attacker off his feet. She broke free and clambered up the stairs, knocking a soldier over the gantry railing as he swung to fire at her. Steve hurried on, turning into a lonely, dark hallway. Someone came out of a door at the other end and stopped, staring at her. The blonde paused, trying to make out the little man’s features.

He suddenly turned and ran, and she sped up, thinking to follow him – but as she passed the doorway someone groaned. Steve stopped and looked through, inching forwards around a sharp corner. A brunette lay strapped to a table, mumbling to himself in the dim light. His voice made the hairs on her neck stand up, and she ran across the room.

“Bucky?”

He didn’t meet her gaze, head lolling unsteadily, but it was definitely him. Steve forced down a shiver and tore the restraints off, brushing them aside.

“Bucky? Buck!”

He didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge her at all. She slid a hand under his head, forcing him to look at her.

“It’s me, Steve.”

The man laughed, high and ragged. “Sure, why not?”

“No, it really is. Things got uh, complicated after you left but it’s still me, pal.”

Bucky just smiled at her, not sceptical or friendly or anything, just a dreamy unresponsive look. Steve sighed.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” she paused, “Jerk.”

He frowned, lip twitching. “Steve?”

“Yeah pal. Come on.”

She helped him sit, and he seemed to be more coherent because he made an effort to support his own weight. His eyes were still on her though, even as she slung his arm around her neck and almost dragged him towards the door.

“I leave you alone for what, five minutes, and you find a way to tip the whole world on its head?”

Steve grinned. “You know me – I love trouble.”

 

They came to the mezzanine over the factory floor and stopped, flames flickering across the machinery below. Steve turned her face quickly as an explosion went off beneath them, urging Bucky up the stairs away from the fire. A catwalk stretched to the opposite wall, two men standing in front of a pair of silver doors. One was short and stout, with glasses and a briefcase: Steve thought he might have been the person she’d seen running away from the room where she’d found Bucky. The other was tall, his build average. He wore a long black coat and gloves, and he was smirking at her.

“Well! If it isn’t the failed experiment. I must admit I was worried when I heard Dr Erskine was working with the Americans, but it seems his vision is still flawed.”

“The only thing flawed around here is you, Schmidt!” Steve yelled.

He clucked his tongue, shaking his head with a disappointed look. “The world is always slow to understand great men. They call me insane rather than acknowledge their own inferiority.”

“You _are_ insane.” She edged closer down the catwalk.

Schmidt laughed, “And what about you, Miss Rogers? You came here alone, against impossible odds and – I imagine – against orders. There are plenty who would consider that an act of insanity.”

“Is doing the right thing crazy?”

“Look at yourself, fraulein. You risk your life for those who threw you away when they believed you no longer of use. Why should you care about such short-sighted beings?”

“Because they deserve it.”

The man clapped, Steve almost close enough to throw a punch now, close enough to make out every smug line of his grin. “They deserve nothing but what we give them! They _are_ nothing, compared to us!”

Schmidt reached a hand to his neck, pulling at the flesh there. Steve stopped, frowning as the skin shifted and stretched. Schmidt finally tugged the mask free and the blonde took an involuntary step back.

“We have left them behind, Miss Rogers. Perhaps when you tire of playing the faithful nursemaid, you will realise the possibilities that lay before you.”

“You think I’d join you? You don’t know me that well.”

“I disagree, fraulein; we might even say I am the only one who knows you.”

A hand clamped on Steve’s shoulder and she glanced back at Bucky’s determined glower. “As if, pal. I’ve got twenty-odd years on you.”

The shorter man grabbed Schmidt’s arm as another explosion rattled the building. “We should be going!”

“Until next time, Miss Rogers.” He gave a gallant wave, stepping through the silver doors.

Steve wanted to chase after him, drag him through the woods to flop at Colonel Philips’ feet – and then somewhere below them another machine exploded, the blast rocking the metal gantry as a wave of heat seared her cheek, and when she looked up again the silver doors were closed.

“Come on,” the blonde slung her arm around Bucky’s waist, “Let’s get out of here.”

*****

Steve wasn’t sure how to get to Philips’ camp from the HYDRA factory but luckily some of the men did, so she let them lead the way, content to walk beside Bucky. He was silent for the first hour or so, looking at her from time to time. She didn’t try to push him into a conversation, even though her guts were twisted in knots; he was in shock, and she didn’t want to make it worse.

Finally he gave a short laugh. “It’s really you, isn’t it? You’ve got those same blue eyes and the same stubborn look on your face.”

“Yep. Serum couldn’t change that.”

“Who did this to you?” Bucky frowned, eyes flicking over her.

“Doctor called Erskine. He was working on a formula that could turn an ordinary man into a super soldier, and I volunteered to be the lucky guy. Things didn’t exactly work out as planned.”

“You don’t say,” the brunette drawled, “He can’t be much of a doctor.”

Steve didn’t want to explain that it was probably his fault, not when they were surrounded by strangers. Instead she shrugged. “He’s a nice guy. Very apologetic.”

Bucky snorted, shaking his head.

She leaned in, trying to catch his eye. “It’s not a problem, is it?”

“It’s weird. It’s really fuckin’ weird, Stevie. But why would I have a problem with it? You didn’t ask for it to happen – you were just doin’ what you always do, tryin’ to help even if it’s stupid and dangerous. Same old Steve.”

“Oh. Thanks, I think.”

Bucky smiled. “Wasn’t a compliment.”

Steve laughed, elbowing him, and he swayed for a second before righting himself.

“God, sorry. I still forget my own strength.”

“Yeah, it’s a little strange having you at eye level for once. I guess they weren’t too disappointed you ended up all leggy then, since you’re in uniform.”

Steve rubbed the back of her neck. “Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m, uh…I’m not technically in the army.”

Bucky’s brows shot up. “What’s not technical about it?”

“They wouldn’t let me serve on the front, so I signed on as a covert agent. I got word about your group getting captured and sort of…threw my own search party.”

“So you’re gonna be in trouble when we get back?”

“Probably.”

He laughed. “Yep, same old Stevie.”

 

They marched up to the boom gate that blocked the road into camp, the stunned sentries raising it to let the men pass. More soldiers poured out of the tents, surrounding their comrades with cheers and backslaps, clapping as they swarmed around the new arrivals. Bucky glanced at Steve, brow furrowed.

“You could still get outta here.”

“Nah,” she shook her head, “I made my choice.”

“What if they court-martial you?”

The blonde threw him a grin. “Still worth it.”

Bucky huffed, looking away. “Idiot.”

“What in the blue blazes is goin’ on here?” a familiar voice yelled from the front of the group.

Steve raised herself up so she could see over the soldiers. Colonel Philips stood with his hands on his hips, listening to one of the men. Peggy stood at his shoulder with an expression that implied she was trying very hard not to laugh. Steve ducked down again, happy to delay the inevitable shouting match.

“A woman? Goddamnit – Rogers, get up here!”

Steve shot Bucky a look that was braver than she felt and shuffled forward, the POWs parting to let her through. A couple gave her sympathetic looks or touched her shoulder, and she held onto that knowledge she’d done something good as she prepared to face the consequences.

The blonde stopped in front of the colonel, standing to attention. “Sir.”

Philips scowled. “My office, now. You too, Agent Carter, since she’s one of yours.”

He turned towards one of the tents. Steve was about to follow when someone called out behind them.

“Three cheers for Steve Rogers!” Bucky yelled, “Hip hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip hip!”

“Hooray!”

“Hip hip!”

“Hooray!”

Steve glanced over her shoulder and caught his eye, the brunette grinning smugly. She shook her head and kept walking, fighting to keep a smile off her face.

 

When she got to the tent, Philips was just sitting down. Steve positioned herself in front of his desk, eyes forward, back straight.

“What in God’s name gives you the right to interfere in my active warzone? Do you have any idea how many different operations you could have destroyed by infiltrating that factory? Agent Carter, when I released Rogers into your hands, I was under the impression you could keep her under control.”

“And I did, sir. I tasked her with gathering more information about the factory. I suppose that in the course of her reconnaissance, she saw an opportunity to rescue our prisoners and took it, as any self-sufficient agent would.”

“Is that true, Rogers?” Philips glared at her.

Steve hesitated. If she said yes, she’d be lying to protect herself, like a coward. If she said no, she’d expose Peggy’s lie. Steve owed her too much to betray her like that.

“It is, sir.”

He sucked at his teeth, eyeing her distastefully. “Bullshit. But since I can’t prove it’s not true, I suppose I should commend you for your efforts on behalf of our troops. Now, Agent Carter will debrief you and gather any intel you may have come across while at the facility, and then I expect her to send you very far away from me and my camp – is that understood, Carter?”

Steve bit her cheek. This was her shot. “Actually sir, I think I can be of more use here.”

“What?” Philips barked, “Rogers, you’re already pushin’ it. I oughta make a complaint about you to SSR command but I won’t, because frankly I don’t have the time to waste on more paperwork. I am not putting you on the line, especially after a stunt like this.”

Steve reached into her pocket and took out the glowing box she’d picked up at HYDRA, setting it on the table in front of him. “This is what they were making, sir – a lot of them. Now I don’t know exactly what it is but they were using them as ammo, and those guns made a real mess of anyone they hit.”

“We’re aware, Rogers. We’ve got people on it.” The colonel said, but his eyes were on the box.

“There’s more. I saw a map with the locations of at least six other factories.”

Philips’ gaze flicked up. “Six?”

“Do you remember the coordinates?” Peggy leaned in.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Great,” Philips stood, “You can write ‘em down for us before you leave.”

“Ma’am,” Steve turned to Peggy, “I’m requesting permission to lead a specialised team against the facilities I saw, and take down HYDRA’s bases in a series of hard, fast assaults.”

“Rogers, if you don’t tell me those locations I _will_ have you shot for treason.” The colonel pounded his knuckles into the table.

 

“Do you think you could manage it with a small group?” Peggy said, as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Sure – six, maybe eight guys? Small enough to slip past the security, but enough to do the damage.”

“Carter,” Philips growled, “Your operatives are spies, not commandos. If you wanna launch an attack on those bases, you either do it by stealth or let me handle it with the full force of the United States military.”

“Colonel Philips, Miss Rogers makes an excellent point. HYDRA will spot a military action from miles away; by the time your men reach the gates they’ll have destroyed anything of importance and scattered like rats. As for spying, the SSR has had zero success getting anyone inside HYDRA’s ranks, as you well know. I believe Steve’s plan might be our best option.”

The colonel walked over to her, facing away from Steve. The blonde could still hear him anyway. “Carter, do you have any idea how much shit I’ll be in if she gets killed? Putting a woman into frontline combat? They’ll crucify me.”

“You’ve done a very good job of making sure no one knows she exists,” Peggy met his eyes coldly, “How can they hold you responsible for a ghost? You’ve got nothing to lose, colonel.”

He sighed, turning away with his hands on his hips again. Steve held her breath for a whole minute and a half before he glanced back at her.

“Fine. Carter, set it up – volunteers only, you hear? And I don’t want anything on paper.”

“Of course, sir. Come along, Agent Rogers, let’s see what you can tell me about the facility.”

“Thank you, colonel, sir.”

Philips waved a hand dismissively and went back to his desk. Peggy gestured at the door and Steve hurried out. The brunette breezed past, Steve lengthening her strides to keep up.

“Peggy, I can’t thank you enough for what you did back there-”

“You can thank me by living up to my grand promises and bringing HYDRA to its knees.” She muttered.

Steve sped up until she could see Peggy’s face. “You’re not mad at me, are ya? I mean I got the impression you knew I was going to recuse Buck if I could-”

She stopped, taking a deep breath. “I did, and I’m very glad it worked out – you saved hundreds of lives last night, Steve, and brought us a real plan to hurt HYDRA.”

“Then I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

The other woman folded her arms. “I’m not.”

“Um, okay. Doesn’t seem that way.”

Peggy huffed. “Sorry. I was just worried about you. I felt awful sending you off alone like that, but I knew I couldn’t help without Colonel Philips getting his knickers in a twist.”

“Oh. Well I’m alright, Peg,” she grinned, “Takes more than a couple of Krauts to get me down. What about you? You’re not gonna get in trouble with the higher-ups, are ya?”

“As the agent supervising Project Rebirth, you are under my command and protection. If I say you personally invaded a HYDRA production plant based on a tactical assessment of the situation, they will accept it. Just don’t go haring off on your own too often.”

“I’ll be good from now on – promise.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “I very much doubt it. Just try to keep me in the loop next time, alright?”


	3. Chapter 3

Steve waited nervously in Peggy’s tent, tugging her collar straight for the tenth time in five minutes. She was supposed to be meeting the men who’d signed up for her squadron, but what if nobody showed up? What if they didn’t want to serve under a woman, and she had to slink out of camp with her tail between her legs and let someone else take down Schmidt?

There were footsteps and she quickly spun to face the entrance, straightening. Bucky slouched in, hands in his pockets.

“Hey punk.”

“Shoulda known you’d sign up.”

“I couldn’t let you go roaming around Europe getting yourself into strife without me.”

Steve snorted. “Or despite you. I take it they cleared you for duty?”

“Clean bill of health.”

“Alright.” She smiled. Having Bucky there made things a thousand times easier; even if no one else was interested, at least she wasn’t alone.

A moment later the tall guy with the derby walked in, a huge smile on his face. “Hey there. Dum Dum Dugan.”

“Steve Rogers.” She shook his hand.

“That’s some grip you got.”

She made a face. “Sorry.”

Dugan laughed. “Don’t worry, I can take it.”

Peggy stepped through the opening, more men behind her. Steve recognised them; they’d all been prisoners at the factory. The brunette smiled, waving them through.

“Good, we’re all here. Agent Rogers, this is Jim Morita, Gabe Jones, Jacques Dernier and James Montgomery Falsworth.”

“Pleasure, ma’am.” Falsworth doffed his cap.

“A Brit? You’re a long way from your friends.” Steve smiled.

“I’m the last of them, unfortunately. But Agent Carter was good enough to take me on so I don’t end up twiddling my thumbs.”

“Glad to have you on board.”

“We’re glad to be here,” Morita said, “Sounds like a fun gig.”

“More fun than sitting around waiting to get shot, anyway.” Jones snickered.

Peggy cleared a space on her worktable and spread out a map of Europe. “Alright lads, gather round.”

 

They clustered around the table, studying the six dots Steve had marked out.

“These,” the blonde pointed, “Are known HYDRA facilities. Some might be factories, some might be bases. We can’t know until we get closer. Our job is to break down their gates, take what we can and burn the rest. We’re gonna chase them right off the map.”

“I like the sound of that.” Gabe smiled.

“You’ll be moving fast,” Peggy continued, “So no infantry or artillery to back you up. We might be able to call in air support but don’t count on it.”

“Agent Carter will be unit commander, communicating with HQ back in London and making sure we’ve got what we need. I’ll be leading the assaults,” Steve glanced around the circle solemnly, “If anyone has a problem with that, they can leave now.”

The soldiers looked at each other silently for a moment, until Dernier shrugged. “You got us out of that factory, which already makes you a better officer than my last captain.”

“I don’t care who tells me to fire my gun, so long as I get to aim it at the bad guys.” Dugan nodded.

“Alright,” Steve smiled, “Then we’ll head out tomorrow. We’re gonna hit this one first, move north from there.”

“I don’t think I have to tell you gentlemen that this assignment must be conducted with the utmost secrecy. If HYDRA knows we’re coming, they’ll run.” Peggy eyed them sternly.

“Do they know we have this map, Agent Rogers?” Falsworth asked.

“No, they don’t, which means we have the advantage. And Steve’s fine – I’m not a soldier, so we won’t stand on ceremony.”

The Englishman looked flustered. “It’s a bit unorthodox, ma’am.”

“Well so am I,” the blonde scowled. “Steve’s my name – always has been, always will be. If people don’t like it, I don’t care.”

“He’s got a point,” Dum Dum drawled, “You’re an unusual enough gal already, without adding an unusual name. We don’t wanna draw attention to ourselves around these common soldier types.”

Steve sighed, rubbing a hand across her brow. “Fine. If you have to address me in front of strangers, just use Stevie.”

“Can do, boss.” Morita tipped his hat.

“Alright, grab your gear. We’re leaving at 06:00.” She waved them on.

“I’ll see about transport.” Peggy left.

The Commandos wandered off, a couple throwing her a salute as they passed, until only Bucky remained. He was frowning, hugging himself uncertainly. Steve thrust out her bottom lip.

“You okay, Buck?”

“Stevie’s my nickname.”

She gave a lazy smile. “You think you could learn to share it? For my sake.”

The brunette gave a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll try.”

*****

Steve crept closer to the top of the embankment, peering over the edge. She could just make out the tall grey building between the trees.

“Alright,” she ducked back down, “Jones and Morita, you’re takin’ the left. Dernier and Falsworth, you’re on the right. Try to blow the vehicles first, maybe some of the big equipment. If you can get your hands on a cannon, even better. I’ll take the lead, with Dugan mopping up behind me. Buck, you’ll provide cover. Get close, but stay out of sight.”

“Yes ma’am.” The brunette saluted.

“Let’s move out.”

They split up, the two flank teams weaving off into the scrub as Steve, Dum Dum and Bucky inched forward one tree at a time. They reached another rise and the sniper peeled away to get a good vantage point. Steve crouched behind one of the last bits of cover, Dum Dum right beside her.

“I’m gonna run in and draw their fire so the others can attack. You wait until they’re good and distracted before you follow me, alright?”

“Don’t take too long, boss,” he smiled, “I don’t wanna miss all the fun.”

Steve grinned and glanced back at the facility. It was little more than a storehouse, two storeys of grey stone with a loose wire fence and a couple of trucks parked out front, no gatehouse or sentry’s towers. The men on guard were standing around with their weapons slung low, one smoking a cigarette and laughing. She waited until they weren’t looking and took off, sprinting towards the gate.

Her feet made barely a sound as she skipped across the forest floor, bent forward to keep her speed up. When she was about ten feet away they finally spotted her, yelling angrily as they brought their guns up. She dove into a roll as energy blasts flew overhead, jumping back to her feet. She took a running start and launched herself at the nearest guard, tackling him so hard they both sailed across the yard and landed behind a truck. She yanked his helmet open, but he wasn’t getting up again; Steve grabbed his gun and crouched behind the protective bulk of the vehicle, shooting at the remaining HYDRA guards as their fire took chunks out of the metal.

The rest of her team burst out of the woods on both sides, Dernier and Falsworth cleaning up two more on their way through, Jones whipping the butt of his rifle into the back of a soldier’s head as Bucky dropped his companion with a single shot. Dum Dum opened fire on the trucks, bullets biting into the gas tank. They exploded with a weird rush, like all the air had been sucked out of the clearing, and then Steve was waving towards the main doors and kicking them off their hinges.

The squad burst through, guns already roaring at the personnel rushing around the storehouse like frightened rats. A couple of HYDRA men took positions on the gantry, sniping at them, and Steve’s team scattered behind tall crates and machinery. The blonde ducked behind a generator and scanned the room. It was mostly just boxes of supplies, with a small winch for loading trucks. On the second level there was a small windowed room that she guessed was an office; if there was any information of value, that’s where it would be.

There were half a dozen men firing at the commandos, but they were holding their own. Steve ran for the nearest stairs, shouldering a HYDRA agent over the railing as she took them two at a time. Down below, Dernier set off one of his personalised grenades and a crate exploded in a shower of shrapnel, someone screaming. Steve pelted down the gantry, a solider turning his weapon towards her, but she jumped towards the wall and pushed herself off in a leap that took her over his head. She landed hard and spun back with a punch, the soldier going limp as he collapsed to the catwalk.

She kept moving, bobbing to avoid stray shots, and reached the office. She slammed her shoulder into the door and it flew open, a soldier on the other side standing abruptly. Steve swung her fist towards him and stopped, beaming.

“Captain!”

Baasch stared at her. “Fraulein Ada?”

“Sorry I ran out on our date. Something came up.”

Her knuckles connected with his jaw and he went down. Steve glanced around. There was a map on the wall but it only showed the official lines of the front, which wasn’t new information. The desk was covered in paperwork though, folders and stacks tied with string. She skimmed the top page and found they were shipping manifests. Steve looked for something to carry them and found a metal wastepaper bin; she filled it with as much as she could and rested it on her hip, hurrying out.

The shooting had stopped, and when she got down to the ground floor the rest of the group were standing smugly over a ring of dead Germans. Falsworth nodded to her armful.

“Is that the intel?”

“As much as I could find.”

“What about this lot?” Dugan waved his gun at the boxes, “Should we take some of this back to HQ?”

Steve surveyed the crates grimly and shook her head. “No. These shouldn’t be trusted to anyone, even if they’re on our side. Dernier, blow the lot.”

The Frenchman winked at her. “With pleasure.”

 

Steve was glad to be back in the city; she was a Brooklyn girl, and the quiet, empty European countryside made her nervous, like the calm before a storm. She trailed around the SSR’s London HQ behind Peggy, trying to ignore the curious looks she got, while the guys enjoyed some downtime.

“Hey Carter! Carter!”

Peggy and Steve looked up from the file they were studying as an excited young man hurried across the room in his shirt sleeves, his tie an obnoxious firetruck red.

“You don’t call, you don’t write,” he shook his head, “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.”

“Nothing of the sort, Howard. Steve, you remember Mr Stark?”

“Sure, from the experiment.”

Howard made a face. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault.” Steve smiled.

“Wasn’t a total screw-up though, was it?” he curled his lip, looking her up and down, “You’re certainly better-looking.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Down, Howard. Do you have something useful to say, or did you come over here to ogle Agent Rogers?”

The inventor beamed. “Don’t sell yourself short, Peg, I’m ogling both of ya. But I do have some new equipment for Steve, if she wants to come take a look.”

Steve bit the inside of her cheek, and decided to have a little fun with him. “I’d love to see your equipment.”

She followed it up with a pointed glance at his crotch and a tiny eyebrow twitch. Howard winked.

“Right this way then, beautiful.”

“Howard.” Peggy sighed.

“Sorry, _Agent_ Beautiful.”

Steve stifled a giggle and followed him to the other end of the office, where long tables were covered in weapons and armour – all prototypes, judging by the labels.

“You and your guys are all getting’ the premium upgrade to carbon polymer, as much of the stuff as I can pile on before it starts weighing you down. But for our peerless leader, I’ve got something special in mind.”

“I’ll bet you do.” Steve smirked.

Howard reached under the table and pulled out a black box. He set it down and lifted the lid, revealing a pair of short sticks nestled in protective padding. They were thick, as wide as three of Steve’s fingers, and about two feet long. They were made of a pure silver metal that shone, even in the mediocre light of the bunker.

 

“I made these myself. The metal’s vibranium. Stronger than steel, a third of the weight, and completely vibration absorbent. You can only get it one place on Earth and they do _not_ like to share. Go on, have a feel.”

Steve picked up one of the staves and spun it leisurely, admiring the balance. “It’s certainly light.”

“I thought they might be more useful in close quarters than your pistol – woman with your reflexes should be able to use them for blocking attacks, as well as doling ‘em out.”

“I can think of some situations where they might come in handy – smashing HYDRA’s machines, for one.”

“Not to mention smashing HYDRA faces,” Howard snorted, “You wanna give them a whirl? Come on, we can rassle.”

“I don’t think you could handle me, Stark.”

“I’d sure like to give it a shot.”

Steve chuckled. “Sorry, Howard. I’m not interested in joining the list of your ex-flings.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers. You can ask any of those ladies, they’ll tell ya I know how to show a girl a good time.”

“Yeah, well I’m not really a good time girl.” She swung the stave again experimentally.

“Mr Stark, do you mind if I borrow Agent Rogers?”

Steve looked up, breaking into a huge grin. “Dr Erskine. It’s good to see you.”

The doctor smiled fondly, adjusting his glasses. “And you, my dear. You look well.”

“I’ll say.” Howard muttered.

“May I have a moment of your time? There are some questions I’d like to ask about how you’re adjusting, any physical issues or complications.”

“Whatever you need. Stark, is it alright if we pick this up later?”

“Sure. Stop by whenever you want me to put you through your paces.”

Erskine made an unimpressed face at him and turned to Steve. “This way.”

He led her out of the ops area and down a dingy hall of identical closed doors with dusty opaque glass panels.

“Would you like a coffee? It’s terrible, but it keeps you awake – not that you have any trouble with that.”

“I’m good, thank you.” Steve said.

 

They stopped outside a door like all the others and Erskine unlocked it, waving her in. It was a cramped little room with an examination table, a couple of storage cabinets and a desk.

“Please, take a seat. I apologise for the untidiness but it’s a borrowed office.”

Steve managed to squeeze herself between the furniture and sit in the chair by the desk, Erskine taking his seat opposite. He opened a manila folder and leafed through the stack of paperwork until he found a clean report.

“Okay. Now,” he looked up with a smile, “How are you?”

“Doing great, doc. No aches, no pains, no illness. My eyesight’s perfect and I can hear ants walking if I try hard enough.”

“You haven’t noticed any decline in your abilities since the experiment?”

“None. I think I’m even faster than I was, though that might just be the training.”

“Good, good,” Erskine jotted it down, nodding, “And there have been no unforeseen side effects? Other than the obvious.”

“Well I can’t get drunk, and I gotta eat five times a day, more if I’ve been doing anything strenuous. Sometimes I get really vivid nightmares, but I think that’s pretty normal for a soldier.”

“Unfortunately, yes. I wish I could do something about it but that is beyond my control.”

Steve shrugged. “I can live with it.”

“And how are you adjusting to your change in sex? Mentally, not physically – I imagine Agent Carter already coached you through that.”

“She did. Honestly? It’s like the entire world changed. I was brought up with certain expectations, you know? Get a job, meet someone nice, get married, have some kids. And I still want all those things, but it’s not the same. I haven’t decided if I want to be romantically involved with a guy, and even if I did get married the idea of having children is suddenly terrifying. If I decide I’d rather be with a woman…well that has its own obstacles,” she sighed, “I get treated differently by everyone, not just the C.Os and the enlisted men – people on the street or in stores react in these new ways I’m not always ready for.”

“But Agent Carter went over some of this with you?” Erskine frowned.

“Yeah, we did. A lot of the stuff at the Academy was about getting close to people, making them like you, responding well in social situations – and I got extra lessons on standard feminine behaviour. I’m not saying I can’t handle it, I’m just saying it’s weird.”

“Do you think you will be able to adapt, with a bit more time?”

“Sure. You can adapt to anything, if it keeps happening. There’s some stuff I won’t put up with though, like being talked down to – or over. I might not end up being the perfect lady, but I can live with that as long as I feel like I’m standing up for myself.”

 Erskine smiled. “I expected nothing less.”

 

“What about you?” Steve asked, “Did they pull your funding?”

“Not quite. They are impressed with your performance, enough to overlook their disappointment that you were not delivered in the exterior they preferred. They have ordered me to spend more time researching my candidates before I try again, to ensure we do not have another uh, surprise.”

“Well if you’re looking for the perfect man, you won’t find him.”

The doctor chuckled sourly. “I told them so as well, but they are quite determined I will find someone.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Then I suppose you will continue being one of a kind, Miss Rogers.”

She snorted softly, looking at her hands. “Maybe it’s better that way.”

“Oh?”

“I met Schmidt. I saw what the serum turned him into. No offence doc – I’m sure grateful for everything you did – but maybe it’s safer to drop your research. It’s hard to tell what’s inside some people, and I’d hate for you to pick the wrong one.”

Erskine rubbed a hand over his forehead, looking more tired than Steve remembered. “Some days I think you might be right. But the human race must have hope, or else there is no point to life. I have to keep trying.”

“I know.”

“I will try not to disappoint you again.” He smiled.

“You never have.”

*****

Steve walked into the bar, looking around for her squad. She spotted them at a table in the next room just as Morita looked up and saw her. She raised a couple of fingers in greeting and went to the counter, leaning her elbows on the surface.

“What can I getcha, miss?”

“A beer, thanks.”

The guy to her left scoffed. “You don’t want that watered down swill, trust me. Arthur, bring the lady a sherry, and put it on my tab.”

Steve eyed him over critically. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with the trim build of a serviceman. He wore a RAAF uniform, his blond hair curly and short. He was also grinning at her with the most self-assured, casually arrogant look she’d ever seen.

“Thanks, but I’ll stick to the beer.”

“It would be a crime to let you sully your tastebuds with it. I absolutely insist. You’ll thank me later.”

Steve raised a brow. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I’m not interested.”

The airman looked taken aback, his smug expression twisting into a scowl. He opened his mouth to say something and Steve braced herself for an argument.

“Everything okay here?” Bucky appeared beside her, stare boring into the pilot’s face.

“It’s fine, Buck. We were just having a minor disagreement about the quality of English beer.”

“Right,” he drawled, sticking his tongue in his cheek, “A friendly debate?”

“That’s right.” Steve gave him a pointed look. She didn’t need him finishing her fights anymore.

“9p, miss.” The bartender pushed her pint towards her.

“Might as well start a tab, pal. I’ve got thirsty friends.”

Bucky slung an arm around her neck. “Come on, Stevie. Everybody’s anxious to hear the news from on-high.”

She grabbed her beer and the brunette led her away, his arm still draped over her lazily until they reached the table. Bucky drew out a chair for her, shooting a sly look back at the bar, and Steve frowned disapprovingly.

“Cut it out.”

“What, I can’t have a little fun with the stuff-shirt?” he winked.

She sighed and sat, taking a deep sip as she turned to listen to Falsworth’s favourite joke about English girls.

 

They had a couple of rounds with the team before Steve noticed Bucky seemed too quiet. He was sitting back in his chair, drinking silently as the others laughed, his eyes unfocussed. She leaned over and clapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey, you wanna come to the bar with me?”

He nodded mutely and followed her to the end furthest from the table. Steve pulled out a stool and sat, Bucky leaning heavily against the counter. The bartender raised his brows in a question.

“I think we’ll move on to whiskey, actually. A double for my friend here.”

“Don’t waste your money,” the brunette sighed, “Nobody wants to see me fallin’ over myself and pissin’ in the river.”

“Two singles then, thanks.”

The old man poured their drinks and slid them over, Steve raising her glass.

“What should we toast?”

“How about progress?” Bucky curled his lip wryly.

Steve arched a brow but clinked her glass against his, taking a swig. Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

“I gotta say, you don’t act much like a lady.”

“I can when I have to,” Steve shrugged, “But I like some of my old habits.”

“Like drinkin’ the strong stuff and sitting with soldiers who joke about dames and curse like the Devil?”

“Yeah, like that.”

“It’s hard to get used to, you being…well it’s more than one thing, isn’t it? If you’d shown up all huge and strong but lookin’ like your old self, I’d have to adjust to being the pipsqueak. If you’d just shown up as a dame, I’d have to adjust to that. But both? I mean, you make me feel pretty shit about not being able to lift a car over my head.”

Steve laughed. “Sorry. I’ll help you practice, if you like.”

“Shut up,” he nudged her, “It’s great, okay? If you’re happy, then I’m happy. I just gotta work on getting it straight in my head.”

“I know what you mean – every time I open my mouth, it surprises me all over again.” The blonde sighed.

“But look at you,” Bucky smiled, “You’re a leader now. Last I saw you, you couldn’t even make it past the recruitment docs and now you’re personally knockin’ down the Nazis’ door.”

“It’s more than I expected. I feel odd giving people orders."

“You’re good at it.”

“So far.” She made a face, sipping.

The brunette wrinkled his nose and gave a lazy smile. “Nah, you’ve got this. You were always tellin’ us what to do in the schoolyard. Bossin’ around a bunch of big kids with guns is a piece of cake after that.”

He picked up his drink and threw back half, eyes on the wall behind the bar as he turned the glass in his palm. Steve studied him, unable to hold back a grin. Bucky was always her biggest fan, and here he was again completely ruling out any doubts she might have about being in charge, like there was no question she could handle it. He’d always been supportive but it meant more now, when people were inclined to question her because she didn’t look like their other commanders.

It was already a miracle that Bucky hadn’t been thrown by the whole girl thing, treating Steve like he always had. She appreciated it; it made her feel like there was still some normal left in her crazy new world. And it was nice to have a friend along when they were facing a tough fight, when every mission was a gamble.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Buck. I couldn’t do this without you.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Sure you could.”

*****

They moved on to the next stronghold and then the one after that, smashing them both down and cleaning out half a dozen smaller bases in between. They slept on the move, camping on snowy mountainsides and in cool forest clearings, the seven of them huddled around their fire telling tales and laughing off the adrenaline. Some nights Gabe gave them lessons in German, mostly basic phrases with a couple of pick-up lines thrown in. Some nights they just sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts.

Steve didn’t need more than a couple hours’ rest, so she usually found herself up after the others were asleep. She spent the quiet time planning their next move or volunteered to take watch for one of the others. She found herself making that offer a lot more the nights Bucky was sentry, the two of them sitting together, eyes on their surrounds. She liked not having to talk, watching Buck’s profile outlined in the moonlight as he stared into the darkness.

She liked watching Bucky in the day too. Her gaze drifted to him whenever she gave orders, checking her words were coming out clear enough, that her ideas were good. She even tried to keep an eye on him during their first couple of skirmishes but quickly realised he could handle himself, and she needed her focus elsewhere. It was a relief to see him come out okay when the dust settled though, and she was proud of how well he held his own in their rag-tag group of fighters.

They’d just finished dinner, some of the guys grouped by the fire, Steve by herself in front of her tent as she studied a map. Bucky crossed the camp and hunkered down next to her, a pack of dog-eared cards in hand.

“You wanna play?”

“What’s the game?” she folded the paper, setting it aside.

“Gin rummy.”

Steve frowned. “You need more people for that.”

“Nah,” Bucky drawled, “We’ll make it work.”

He started dealing the cards, dropping them haphazardly. Steve scooped them up and grouped them by number, glancing over at Bucky’s hand to see if he had any sets.

“Hey, no cheatin’, Rogers.”

“Not cheating. Just figuring out the lay of the land.” She sniffed innocently.

“I’ve heard that one before. You’re starting.”

Steve picked up the top card and discarded a five she didn’t have any use for. Bucky drew, throwing down a seven. They went around a couple more times, until Steve laid down a set of threes.

“Oh, you think you’re clever, huh?” Bucky gave a teasing smile.

“Smarter than you.” Steve grinned back.

“We’ll see.” He put down a set of fours, waggling his brows.

 

Steve felt her cheeks heat up. She ducked her head, glad that the dark hid her face. What was the matter with her? The blonde played her turn quickly, peering up at Bucky discreetly. He was concentrating on his hand, tongue stuck in his cheek. His hair had a messy, rakish charm, clearly combed back with his fingers. His coat was open at the neck, collar high. He looked like an outlaw, or a highwayman. Steve blushed again.

“You gonna pick up a card, Stevie?”

She hurriedly grabbed the top one without checking what it was. “What, a gal can’t think?”

“Just making sure you haven’t dozed off over there.”

 “No danger of that.” The blonde scowled at her cards, shuffling them around and coming up with nothing. She discarded an eight with a huff, leaning back against the tent pole.

“So I’ve been thinkin’.”

“Hmm?” she glanced up.

Bucky grabbed a card, waving it absentmindedly. “What are you gonna do after the war?”

“We don’t know that there’s gonna _be_ an after the war, Buck.”

“Maybe not for everyone, but you’re practically indestructible now. You’ll make it. And you’ll still be…well, a dame. So what are you gonna do?”

Steve shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Hadn’t thought about it.”

“Bullshit, Stevie. You’re always thinking.”

The blonde gave an exasperated sigh, setting down a group of sixes. “I dunno. I mean it’s silly to try and get a normal job when I’ve got these abilities.”

“Not to mention normal jobs will be kinda limited.”

“That too,” she nodded, “I’ll probably stay on with the SSR, like Peggy.”

“What if they close it down?”

“There’ll be other agencies. Maybe one of them won’t mind taking me.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Steve frowned at him. “What are you gonna do?”

Bucky shrugged. “Go back to my old life, I guess. Work at the garage. Look after my sisters. Maybe meet a nice gal and settle down.”

Steve’s stomach turned, and she quickly buried her face in her cards.

“I think I’m just havin’ a hard time imagining life after all this when I know you probably won’t be in it.”

 

Her head snapped up. “Why would you say that?”

Bucky gave her his laziest, most likeable smile. “Come on, Stevie. You just said it yourself – you can’t get a normal job, can’t have a normal life. You’re meant for bigger things, and who am I? Just some schmuck from Brooklyn who can shoot straight.”

“That doesn’t mean we won’t see each other,” she said, voice strained, “I’ll visit.”

“Sure, at first. But you’ll probably get less and less chances, and I’ll have some wife who doesn’t like pretty girls taking me out for a drink, and eventually it’ll be the occasional letter on the holidays.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Steve said fiercely.

Bucky smiled sadly. “It’s alright, pal. You’ll be makin’ a difference, and that’s what matters.”

“We’ve known each other our whole lives, Buck. I’m never gonna abandon you.” She reached out and grabbed his hand.

The brunette’s eyes met hers and Steve got that hated feeling in her chest like she couldn’t breathe. His hand was calloused from his gun and the cold, fingers thicker than hers (though that part wasn’t new). She realised how lonely she’d been after Bucky shipped out. She hadn’t noticed at the time, distracted by basic training and Erskine’s experiment and the Academy; but now she could see that there’d always been something missing. She wished he could have been there to tell her everything was going to be okay when things seemed bleak. She couldn’t imagine willingly leaving him again.

“Never.” She said again firmly, pulling her hand back.

Bucky gave her a bemused look. “Okay. Your turn.”

Steve finished the game in a bit of a haze, giving Bucky an easy win. She went straight to bed even though she wasn’t tired, staring at the rough fabric of the tent instead. She hadn’t really thought about what she was going to do when their task was finished; maybe she’d been avoiding making some hard decisions. Post-war life was such a confusing, intimidating idea. It was better to focus on the moment, just making it through each day alive, only worrying about the mission.

Steve thought back to Bucky’s smile, the way his eyes met hers. The moment was kind of confusing too.

 

Steve climbed out of her tent at first light to find their dawn sentries already starting on breakfast. Morita was cleaning his boots by the fire while Falsworth and Gabe opened the rations. Bucky wandered past bare-chested, his shirt draped over one shoulder.

“Morning, Stevie.”

She quickly dragged her gaze away from his abs. “Morning. Any coffee?”

“Two minutes.” Gabe said.

“Great. I’m gonna wash up.”

She grabbed a towel and hurried down to the river near camp, crouching to splash the icy water over her face. What the hell was wrong with her? She needed to get it together.

“You’re just upset about what Bucky said,” she muttered, “About not seeing each other. And there’s no use panicking about that now.”

“Hey.”

Steve jumped, dropping her towel. “Jesus Buck! Don’t sneak up on me.”

The brunette smirked. “I thought that was impossible with your fancy hearing.”

“I was distracted.”

He held out her toothbrush. “You forgot this.”

She took it, face hot. “Thanks.”

“Everything okay, bud?”

“It’s fine. Just a bit stressed.”

Bucky snorted. “You and everybody else. See you at breakfast.”

“Sure.” She said, voice coming out as a squeak.

He gave her another curious look and stomped back through the bushes, leaving Steve to bury her face in her hands.

“Okay,” she breathed, “One thing at a time. Teeth first, weirdness later.”


	4. Chapter 4

By the time they headed back to London for their next debrief, Steve was miserable. She couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky and how the only way to keep him in her life was to give up helping people and take an ordinary, boring job. It made her too quiet; she could tell the guys were worried that she didn’t rise to their jokes anymore. Bucky tried to cheer her up by spending more time chatting to her, which only made her more anxious about their impending separation.

“Steve? Steve, are you listening?”

“Hmm?” she looked up, lifting her face off her hand, “Sorry, Peg. I got a little side-tracked.”

The agent sat on the edge of her desk, frowning. “Are you alright? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I’m worried.”

“Is it something I can help you with?”

Steve rubbed the back of her neck. “Maybe. Peg, what’s going to happen to me after the war?”

“You’re welcome to stay with the SSR as long as you’d like.”

“What if there is no SSR?” the blonde pushed.

“Then you and I will find somewhere else to put our talents to use, I’m sure,” She smiled, “There’s always a need for female agents.”

Steve didn’t say anything, folding her arms over her chest. Peggy ducked her head, trying to catch the other woman’s gaze.

“Steve, if you’re worried about your prospects I can speak to my superiors-”

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure they’ll have a spot for me.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

Steve thought about it. It didn’t feel right discussing Bucky with Peg. The other agent was like a sister, but she was also someone whose feelings for Steve were complicated, and the blonde didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by admitting she might have complicated feelings about someone else.

“It’s nothing. Just not sure what I’m gonna do with myself. I’ve got time to figure it out though, right?”

Peggy pursed her lips as though she didn’t believe her, but stood and walked around the desk. “As I was saying, we’ll reconvene tomorrow at 09:00 to talk about the remaining factories. In the meantime, I suggest you have some fun.”

She took a piece of paper from her desk and scribbled across it, handing it to Steve. The other woman frowned.

“An address?”

Peggy’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “You’ve got an old friend in town. Perhaps they might be able to take your mind off things.”

 

Steve read the number above the door, cursing Peggy for knowing exactly the right way to catch her interest. The building wasn’t much, just a small townhouse in a twee part of town that had been turned into apartments at some point. Steve let herself in and started up the stairs. Her mysterious friend was staying on the third floor, and it was only when she got to the second that Steve wondered if she should have called ahead. What if they weren’t even home? Why hadn’t she pressed Peggy for more details? She reached the top and knocked, feeling like an idiot.

The door opened and an excited redhead squealed. “Stephanie! Oh my goodness, you are the _last_ person I expected to see!”

“Velma?” Steve gaped, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m en route to my new assignment. Agent Carter didn’t tell me you were in town.”

“Same.”

Velma shook her head, dropping her voice. “These spies – so sneaky. Come in!”

Steve stepped into a humble but neat bedsit, a suitcase propped against the wall by the couch. Velma waved her towards a seat, putting the kettle on.

“Tea?”

“Thanks.”

“So how’ve you been?” the other agent asked without turning around.

Steve smiled. “Busy.”

“I’ve heard rumours,” Velma winked over her shoulder, “Well done.”

“Just doing my bit.”

“Aren’t we all?” she laughed, taking down a couple of mugs.

“Have you heard anything about the girls?”

Steve sat back and listened to Velma chatter as she made the tea, the redhead’s blunt nature making it easy to relax and think about something simple for once. Velma handed her a mug and sat, curling her legs up on the couch.

“So what’s new with you? Other than the classified bits you can’t tell me.”

 

Steve bit her lip and thought about it. Velma didn’t know Bucky, but she certainly knew guys. She might be able to give Steve some advice. Hell, maybe that’s why Peggy had sent her in the first place.

“Velma, can I ask you about something?”

“Shoot.”

“There’s this guy on my squad I know from back home. We grew up together, close as can be, but I’m worried that when the war’s over it’s gonna get hard to keep being friends.”

Velma laughed. “Honey, you’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. If you wanna stay close you’ll find a way. That’s not your real problem.”

Steve frowned. “What is?”

“You like him.”

“What?” the blonde scoffed, “No way. He’s like my brother.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t be fretting. Family’s forever, right? But love…” she shook her head, “That’s tricky.”

“I’m not in _love_ with Bucky!” Steve hissed.

“Maybe not yet, but you’re thinking about it. I can always tell when a girl’s hooked on some guy – it’s like you’re here but your mind’s somewhere else.”

The blonde quirked her lips, squirming against the cushions. “I’m not sayin’ you’re right. But maybe I’ve noticed lately that he’s a good-looking guy.”

“Oh yeah?” Velma smiled.

“Funny. Charming. Always has my back. Maybe I’m noticing stuff I never paid attention to before.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Well, what can I do?” Steve looked down at her tea, “There’s no guarantee _he’s_ noticed _me_. I don’t wanna ruin things.”

“Why wouldn’t he notice you?” Velma tutted, “You’re gorgeous, smart, real sarcastic, and you can bench-press a refrigerator. You’re a catch.”

“I don’t feel like a catch. I’m not as pretty as you or Peg. I’m not ladylike. What if he wants a real girl?”

Velma smacked her on the arm. “Don’t you dare, Stephanie Rogers! You are just as pretty as any of the gals we trained with.”

The blonde eyed her bosom dubiously. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” Velma raised her brow wickedly, “Maybe we should put it to the test.”

Steve’s gaze narrowed. “Why do I feel like this is gonna be more fun for you than for me?”

“Steph, you should be more open to new experiences.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Believe me, I’m an expert.”

 

Steve fidgeted with her neckline again, wiggling her chest. “I feel like an idiot squashed into this thing.”

Velma slapped her hand away, eyes raking the sidewalk. “You look great. Now stop fussing.”

The blonde frowned but kept her hands away from her cleavage, walking arm in arm with Velma down the crowded path. They were strolling along the Strand, and they weren’t the only ones; the street was filled with people enjoying the rare afternoon sun. A lot of them were servicemen, doffing their hats as the ladies passed and peering in the windows of the expensive shops.

“Alright, find someone you like the look of and try to get his attention.” The redhead leaned in and whispered.

“Why are we doing this again?”

“So you can practice flirting on someone who doesn’t matter.”

“I know how to flirt. They gave us a whole week of lessons on it, remember?”

Velma scoffed. “You know how to flirt with a mark, which is all about manipulation and fulfilling your objective. You don’t wanna treat a guy you care about like that. You want it to be…authentic. Playful.”

“I dunno,” Steve frowned, “It seems mean to lead them on.”

“Come on Rogers, these guys are either shipping out or on their way home. They’re not looking for a girlfriend. Just a casual flirtation, fun for both of you, and then you go on your merry way.”

“Vel-”

“Shush!” she held a finger up in warning, “Get on with the mission, Rogers.”

Steve stuck her lip out but scanned the faces around them obediently, trying to find a guy who looked approachable. She spotted a couple of tall officers getting out of a cab, Canadian by their uniforms. They seemed friendly, joking around as they put their caps on.

“Them.” She muttered.

“Good eye. What’s the plan?” the redhead leaned in conspiratorially.

“Not sure yet. I’m gonna wing it.”

Velma looked dubiously but didn’t comment as they drew level with the officers. Steve stopped, clasping her hands in front of her with a friendly smile.

“I like your colours. What insignia is that?”

The two men shared a surprised look. “Third Infantry Division.”

“Wow,” Steve gushed, “You must have seen some action then, huh?”

“More than our fair share.” The talkative one nodded.

“I’d be interested in hearing about it – I bet you’ve got some great stories.”

He gave her a pained smile. “Not many fit for ladies, unfortunately.”

 

Velma placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “If you’ll excuse us, officers? My friend and I are going to be late for our train.”

“Oh,” the blonde frowned, already being steered away, “Uh, it was lovely to meet you!”

They hurried down the block, Velma shaking her head. “Were you trying to interrogate them?”

“No.”

“Then I’d advise against questioning their military résumés. It’s not very romantic.”

Steve sighed. “Sorry. I don’t know what it is – I’m fine talking to people normally, but as soon as I have to get them to like me it’s like every clever thought just leaves my head. At least if we’re talking about combat I can stay on track.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll work on it. How about you watch me have a go before trying again?”

Steve took a fortifying breath. “Okay.”

They walked a little further, Velma patting her hand suddenly.

“Look – eleven o’clock, two guys on the corner of that jewellery store.”

Steve glanced over. They were wearing suits, hair slicked back with pomade, smoking by the shop window. She nodded and Velma opened her purse, taking out her cigarette case. She gave the pair a dazzling smile.

“Any chance I could borrow a light? Mine’s busted.”

The younger of the two blinked at her, gaze dropping to her conspicuous chest and back again hurriedly. “Uh, sure.”

“Oh thank you! I was just telling my friend Jenny here that if I didn’t get a smoke soon, I was going to become a complete monster!” she laughed, shaking a cigarette out of the case and pinching it in her fingers.

He raised the lighter with a shaky hand and Velma leaned in, giving him a good view down her dress as her hand closed over his to steady the flame. She straightened, inhaling for a moment before closing her eyes with a soft, breathy coo of satisfaction.

“Much better. Mind if we join you?”

 

The other guy, slightly older and married going off the ring Steve saw on his finger, gave them a toothy grin. “By all means.”

“I’m Nancy, and this is Jenny.” She nodded at Steve.

“Pleased to meet you.” He shook the blonde’s hand, “I’m Andrew. That rascal is Will.”

“Oh, he’s a real flatterer!” Velma giggled, “Should I believe him?”

Will, still looking faintly stunned, let out a puff of smoke instead of an answer. Steve smiled.

“It’s alright, Nancy doesn’t scare easy. She likes them a bit bad.”

Andrew raised a brow, eyeing her over. “What about you?”

“My mother had lots to say about bad men and the trouble a girl can find herself in. I try to avoid them when I can.”

“Hard with all these flatfoots about.” He scoffed.

Velma wrinkled her nose, leaning closer to Will. “Soldiers are boring! They can’t stay out late and they’ve all got girlfriends back home. They don’t know where the good frolics are.”

“Are you girls looking for a party?” the youth spluttered out.

“Depends,” Steve tilted her head coyly, “Do you boys like to dance?”

“Try to stop me!” Andrew chortled.

“We’re only in town a few more days. Maybe we could give you a call, get the locals’ tour?” she pursed her lips.

“Consider us at your service, ladies.”

“Nance, have you got a pen?”

Velma rummaged in her purse for a moment and handed one over with an empty matchbook. Steve offered them to Andrew, biting the corner of her lips with a girlish duck of her head.

“Where’s the best place to reach you?”

He took them and scribbled a number down, blowing on the ink before he handed it back. “Any time after six, you just give us a bell and we’ll show you ladies a good time.”

“Looking forward to it.” Steve winked, linking arms with Velma.

“Til then.” The redhead blew Will a kiss, flouncing away.

 

They only made it to the end of the next block before bursting into giggles.

“Oh god, I thought that kid was gonna have a heart attack!” Steve laughed.

“Poor boy,” Velma snickered, “How do you feel?”

“Kinda dirty, like Emmeline Pankhurst’s rolling in her grave. It wasn’t a total disaster though.”

“Definitely an improvement on the last pair. Not subtle enough for your boy – though maybe he could use a real kick in the pants.” Velma giggled, pushing her playfully.

“Maybe. If the situation feels right,” Steve shrugged, “I’m still not sure I like him anyway.”

The other woman gave her a sceptical look, chuckling. “Honey, you are the poster child for denial.”

The blonde made a face at her. “We can’t all wear our hearts on our sleeve, Velma.”

“You should give it a try sometime,” she winked, “You might find you like it.”

*****

Steve looked up at the knock on her door. “Come in!”

Morita stuck his head around the frame. “Hey boss, we’re going to the bar. You in?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you guys there.”

He gave a quick salute and ducked out. Steve glanced at her dress uniform hanging on its hook. In the field she wore trousers, but in town she’d followed Peggy’s example and stuck to a skirt; it attracted less attention, and it wasn’t like it stopped her being able to fight if she needed to. But tonight she didn’t feel like wearing it. Her excursion with Velma had been a nice change from routine, a chance to get dolled up, and she’d enjoyed being seen and appreciated for what she was – a young, attractive woman.

And she worked for the agency, not the service. There was no rule against wearing skivvies if she wanted.

 

“Wahoo,” Dum Dum beamed as she walked towards the table, “Look at you, Rogers. You clean up good.”

“One of us has to.” Steve smirked, pleased with her selection. The navy blue dress wrapped around her torso and buttoned at the shoulder, leaving her arms bare. It was belted by a matching sash and then flared out, finishing just below her knees. She hadn’t had time to do her hair properly but it was down at least, brushing her shoulders.

“Where’d you get the gear?” Gabe nodded.

“Borrowed it from Peg.” She shrugged. Technically she’d borrowed it from the SSR’s stores, but Peggy had given her permission to raid the mission wardrobe whenever she needed, and it was the only place Steve could find something in her size on such short notice.

She glanced over at Bucky, hoping for a reaction. The brunette was staring at her with a tiny impish smile, fingers tapping on the table distractedly. She felt stupidly pleased, grinning back at him. Steve shifted her weight, resting a hand on her hip.

“Well, is someone gonna make room for me?”

Falsworth jumped out of his seat, waving her towards the empty space. “Ma’am.”

Steve sat, fussing with the skirts until she could get them flat, and Dugan pushed a beer towards her. The Englishman grabbed a chair from another table and the group squished up until they could all fit, soon falling back into their conversation. Steve sipped her drink, laughing along, eyes darting to Bucky when he spoke.

“Any word on when we’re shipping out again?” Gabe asked.

The blonde shook her head. “Stark’s been messing around with the energy pack, says he’s close to something important. I think they want to keep us here until he’s finished, just in case.”

“It shouldn’t be too much longer though, right?” Morita said, “I mean we’re gonna lose our momentum – the longer we give them, the more prepared they’ll be.”

“Don’t worry, Agent Carter’s well aware of that. Once we’re back on the Continent, they won’t pull us out again unless they have to.” Steve assured him.

“We can roll right over ‘em, Blitzkreig style.” Dum Dum chewed on a unlit cigar.

“That’s the plan.” She raised her glass.

“Hear, hear.” Falsworth clinked his drink against hers, throwing it back.

 

They’d been there about an hour when someone tapped Steve’s shoulder lightly. She turned to find a guy in shirtsleeves, slacks and a black waistcoat smiling down at her. He looked a little younger than their group and his tie was crooked, but his face was so open and genuine she couldn’t help liking him immediately.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, accent rough, “My name’s George. I was wondering if you might like to dance?”

She hesitated. “I shouldn’t really desert my friends.”

Dum Dum waved a hand. “Go on, Stevie. We can survive a couple minutes without ya.”

Steve snorted. “I’m not convinced.”

George glanced between them and smiled. “Don’t mind me then. Have a good evening, miss.”

He turned to go and she bit her lip, thinking of all the times she’d wanted to ask a girl to dance and been too afraid. “Wait. One dance.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Sure,” she laughed, “Why not?”

Steve stood and offered her hand, and George stared at it for half a second before taking it gingerly. He led her over to the only free space in the room, a tiny square by the radio. A crackly old jazz standard was playing, something a bit mellow. They faced each other and he put a hand on her waist, arm locked rigid to keep a respectable distance between them. Steve almost started moving before she realised she was supposed to let him lead, trying to maintain a patient smile.

George started an easy two-step, something between a bounce and a sway. He wasn’t a great dancer but he wasn’t a catastrophe, and Steve settled into the rhythm feeling pretty proud on his behalf.

“I hope it’s not too forward to ask your name.” he smiled cheekily.

Steve laughed. “Not at this point. It’s Stevie.”

“You’re American. That’s great - I’ve never met an American girl before.”

“We’re just like the English ones, I promise.”

George gave a soft snort. “I doubt it, Miss Stevie. They turn their noses up at me.”

“Why would they do that? You seem like a polite young man.”

“Beats me, miss. Maybe they prefer those big muscly army types, like your friends over there.”

Steve squeezed his hand. “Well personally I find the big muscly types are usually blockheads. Just you wait, George – soon the girls will be sick of them and come looking for a sweet guy like you.”

He ducked his head, blushing. “It’s awfully nice of you to say so, miss.”

 

“How old are you anyway?”

“Nineteen.”

“And you’re not enlisted?” she asked, quickly continuing when his face fell, “I’m not judging, by the way. Just curious.”

“Irregular heartbeat, the doctors told me,” George said glumly, “It never bothers me none but they said I wasn’t fit to serve.”

Steve gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, George. As strange as it sounds, I’ve been in your shoes and it’s not much fun.”

His eyes bulged a bit. “You not fit? You’re havin’ a laugh with me.”

“No, it’s true. I’m fine now but I used to be really sick. I failed the physical half a dozen times.”

George looked impressed. “Well I’m glad you’re better now, Miss Stevie.”

“Me too.” She winked.

Someone wearing heavy boots walked towards them, stopping so close George stumbled, only staying upright thanks to Steve’s sly grip.

“Mind if I cut in?” Bucky grinned smugly.

The teenager blinked up at him warily, letting go of Steve. “Uh, sure.”

“It’s fine, George. Bucky can wait his turn-”

“No, no,” he smiled sheepishly, “I don’t want to put a fella out. Thanks for the dance, Miss Stevie, and for being so nice.”

“It was my pleasure, George.” She smiled.

He shuffled off, glancing back over his shoulder at her with a pleased grin. Steve waved, turning to find Bucky waiting to take her hand.

“What did you do that for?” she raised her brows.

“Thought I’d come save you from Junior.” Bucky shrugged, putting his hand on her waist and starting a lively step.

“You didn’t have to,” she frowned, “We were getting along.”

“Well how am I supposed to know?” the brunette snickered, “You’ve never wanted to dance with a guy before. I thought you were just being too polite for your own damn good – _again_.”

“I can dance with guys now if I want to.” She stuck out her lip.

“Evidently.” Bucky spun her to emphasise the point.

“Would it bother you?” Steve said timidly, “If I wanted to dance with guys?”

“Why should it?”

 

“Because, you know, I used to be one. Maybe you’d think that’s wrong.”

He gave her a disbelieving look. “Stevie, since when have I been a stickler for morality? You’re a dame now. You can dance with whoever you like, man or woman, and I’ll go with it.”

Steve considered that for a moment, then shrugged. “Well I don’t really wanna dance with anyone right now. I don’t have time to figure that stuff out, not with everything else going on.”

“You’re dancing with me.” Bucky’s eyes twinkled.

The blonde quirked her lips. “Maybe I’ve got a better idea where I stand with you.”

“Oh? Where’s that?” he twirled her again, Steve somehow ending up closer when she spun back.

“You’re my annoying, pain in the ass pal Bucky. You drive me crazy, but you also accept me as I am.”

Bucky laughed. “I can’t help it – you’re just too swell. I couldn’t dislike you if I tried.”

“I’m serious, Buck,” she caught his eye, “I must thank God at least five times a day for bringing us back together. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Stevie. You don’t need me as much as you think you do. You’re the real deal.”

“Nah, I’m just a punk.” She wrinkled her nose.

Bucky guffawed. “Also true.”

The song finished and they slowed to a stop, Steve suddenly very aware of his hand burning through the thin fabric of her dress.

“Guess we should see how the others are getting on.” She smiled stiffly.

Bucky pulled back, raising her hand to his lips. “Mi’lady.”

She groaned and wrenched it free of his grip, shoving him just hard enough to make him rock back a step. “Who are you, Clark Gable? Get over yourself, Mr Smooth.”

He laughed. “Clark Gable wishes he had my style. Go ahead, I’ll grab us another jug.”

The brunette ambled towards the bar and Steve bit back a grin, re-joining the Commandos.

“Sergeant Barnes has got some moves.” Jones chuckled.

“You should see him use them on someone who doesn’t know better.” She smirked, emptying her glass.

The soldiers snickered and slapped each other’s backs, and under the table Steve clutched her hands in her lap and wondered if she was really as indifferent as she said.

*****

Steve walked up the stairs, eyes fixed on the note in her hand. She wandered towards her room, frowning at the open door.

“What’s the scuttlebutt, sir?” Bucky leaned back in the chair by her window, arms folded over his chest.

“Do you always let yourself into your C.O’s quarters?” the blonde said, appalled.

“When you’re the C.O, yeah.”

Steve scowled at him. “Well what about a gal’s right to privacy?”

Bucky rocked forward, resting his elbow on his knee. “Please, Stevie – you and I don’t have secrets. Now what’s the paper?”

“Orders from HQ. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Finally. I’m antsy as all hell.”

“Yeah. It’ll be good to get moving again.”

“We should have one last party with the gang,” the brunette nodded, “Go down to the pub and write ourselves off. We won’t have another run at a decent beer for months.”

“Sounds good. I should probably stay here though, talk to Peggy about our itinerary.”

Bucky gave her a disgusted look. “No way. You’re gonna come with us and have some damn fun.”

“Who’s in charge around here?” she joked.

“Today, it’s me. In fact, we’re not going to waste one second of our last day off. Go change into one of those flowery dresses, and we’ll take a walk.”

“Why?” Steve protested.

“Because we’re about to plunge back into a warzone, constantly risking our lives, and who knows what’s gonna happen? So you and I will enjoy a lazy stroll, and then later when we’re covered in blood, sweat and dirt we can say ‘Hey, remember how nice that walk was?’ It’ll be good for morale.”

She sighed. “I’ll find something to wear.”

“Don’t take too long, or I might think you’re not comin’.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fifteen minutes, tops.”

Bucky stood. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Fifteen minutes, and I’m countin’.”

 

It was an almost out of breath Steve who skipped down the stairs seventeen minutes later, short heels clicking against the concrete. Bucky had changed into his dress uniform, hat tucked under his arm, and he broke into a broad grin when he saw her.

“Very nice. Peggy again?”

“This is one of mine, actually.” Steve smoothed out the pale pink cotton. The dress had a matching short jacket but it was too thin for the grey English weather, so she’d thrown her combat jacket over the top and belted it tight.

“The colour suits ya. Shall we go?” Bucky offered his arm.

“You don’t have to escort me around like your sweetheart, you know.” Steve frowned.

“Steve, would you stop being an idiot for one minute and let me be a gentleman? My ma spent a long time schoolin’ manners into me, and I’m gonna use ‘em.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, but took his arm. “Only cos I know your poor ma, and I wouldn’t want to let her lessons go to waste.”

He led her across the yard to the street entrance, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine what she’ll say when she sees you.”

“She can’t, Buck,” Steve said sadly, “No one who knew me can. Project Rebirth’s strictly confidential.”

“So what are you going to do, let all your friends and neighbours think you died on the line?” the brunette’s brow furrowed.

“I have to. I just don’t have another way of explaining it.” Steve shrugged as they turned down the street, away from the barracks.

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. Probably supports that whole idea of yours that I won’t be able to see you much when we get home, since you’ll have to pretend I’m someone else.” she said gloomily.

“Did I say that? You shouldn’t listen to me, Stevie. I’m not as bright as I look.” Bucky smiled, but it looked forced.

“You don’t have to tell me.” She joked.

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, no more maudlin talk. This is our last pleasant London afternoon, and we’re going to talk about good things.”

“Like what?” Steve grinned.

“Like how great it is that I don’t get a crick in my neck anymore when I meet your eyes.”

The blonde giggled. “The heels help.”

“Your turn. What’s something great about me?”

 

Steve scoffed. “Oh, so it has to be about you?”

“Yep. Guys like compliments too, Stevie.” Bucky raised his nose with a sniff.

“Okay. Something great about Buck…hmm….” Steve pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully.

“Well don’t strain yourself!” he laughed.

“Give me a minute, would ya?”

The brunette made a studious face. “I understand, there are so many options to choose from.”

“I like your sense of humour,” she smiled, “Thanks for inviting me out, Buck. I think I needed it.”

“No probs, doll.” He grinned.

Steve’s heart sped up, the blonde fighting to keep her smile at a normal, non-embarrassing level of glee. They reached a park and Bucky led her along one of the neatly curved paths under the bare tree branches. There were other people walking nearby – other _couples_ , Steve’s brain supplied – but it was peaceful enough that they could have been alone.

“Your turn.”

“Easy. I like that face you make when you sketch, like you’re so focussed a bomb could go off and you wouldn’t notice. Have you done any drawin’ since the experiment?”

“Not really. A little at the Academy, portraits of the other girls mostly.”

“You should sketch more. Hey, maybe that’s something you could do after all this,” Bucky’s eyes brightened excitedly, “Art school. You’re not sick now, so you won’t be missing class all the time.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” She admitted.

“Or you could be a nurse, like your ma. You can’t catch anything from your patients.”

Steve winced and Bucky stopped, frowning.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know, Buck. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better about stuff. And you’re right, I could help a lot of people that way.”

They started walking again, and Steve let her hand creep down Bucky’s arm until she could touch the back of his wrist.

“One of my favourite things about you, James Buchanan Barnes, is that under that smarmy ladies’ man act is a considerate, sweet guy.”

“Don’t go telling anyone,” Bucky snorted, “You’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

They rounded a hedgerow and came to a fountain with a couple of benches arranged around it.

“Wanna sit?” Bucky asked.

“Sure.”

The brunette waited for Steve to arrange herself comfortably before sliding onto the seat next to her, his arm propped casually along the back of the bench. He inhaled deeply, tilting his face back towards the sun.

“I need to keep an eye on the time.”

“Forget it – we’re enjoying our lazy day.”

“I really do have to at least check in with Peg before tonight, you know.” Steve fumbled with the clasp on her purse, the catch stuck.

She tugged harder and the whole thing flew out of her hands, landing on the gravel a couple of feet away. A passer-by stooped down and picked it up, holding it out with a smile.

“There you go, miss.”

She took it with a grateful smile. “Thank you, mister...”

“Tom,” he shook her hand lightly, “And I’m always happy to help a lady.”

“Well I appreciate it. Have a nice day, Tom.”

“You too, miss.” He waved, walking off.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Bucky grumbled. “You shouldn’t encourage ‘em.”

“He was just being friendly.” Steve shrugged.

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“Who?” she laughed, “Men? I _know_ what men think, Buck.”

“Well don’t let the British charm thing fool ya, they’re the same everywhere you go,” his face brightened, “That’s one good thing about the war – I can say I’ve travelled.”

“But you still prefer Brooklyn, right?” Steve smiled, happy to drop the subject.

“It’s home. Only natural to be biased about the things you’ve grown up,” he glanced at her askance, “Things that are familiar. Comforting.”

The blonde crossed her legs and clasped her hands on one knee, voice higher than usual. “Change isn’t always a bad thing. If you stay in one place your whole life, you might miss out.”

Bucky’s gaze skimmed over her. “Not necessarily.”

She cleared her throat, suddenly finding it hard to form a sentence. “Then again, they say the more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“That expression never made any sense to me.”

“I think it’s one of those ‘history repeats itself’ things.”

The brunette frowned. “I hope no one in the future is dumb enough to repeat this mess.”

Steve grimaced. “Fingers crossed.”

Bucky sat up. “No more maudlin talk!”

“Hey, that was all you.”

“Come on, what else do you love about me?”

 

The bar was louder than usual, every seat full. A group of Marines leaned on the wall by the radio, arguing loudly about Ella Fitzgerald, and there was a queue waiting for the dartboard.

Steve pushed her chair back. “I’m gonna grab another round.”

“Have I mentioned you’re my favourite C.O?” Dum Dum grinned.

“Only a dozen times.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help smirking back.

She made her way to the counter, the bartender giving her a familiar nod from where he was serving someone else.

“Another seven, Jack.”

“Just a mo’, Stevie.”

A dark-haired sailor turned away from his friends and leaned his arms on the bar next to her. “You know what I love about this war? Women in uniform.”

“Yeah,” Steve drawled, “Shame about all the people dying though.”

He laughed. “Wow, that’s some mouth. What else can it do?”

She pursed her lips and straightened, facing him directly so he could see the stubborn set of her shoulders. “It can remind you to watch your manners. Don’t they teach you navy boys how to treat a lady?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he leered, “I know exactly what to do with a dame like you.”

Steve was about to answer when someone shoved the sailor’s shoulder, spinning him back into the counter.

“I think you’re done for the night, pal.” Bucky glared at him.

The sailor’s eyes narrowed as he regained his balance, hands balling into fists. “I don’t remember asking your opinion, mate.”

Steve caught Bucky’s eye, jaw clenched grimly. “Don’t.”

“See?” the sailor tilted his head with a cocky grin, “The lady doesn’t mind. Why don’t you go bother someone else, Yank?”

He slid his arm around Steve’s waist and tugged her against his side. The brunette’s eyes flashed and before Steve  could stop it, Bucky’s fist connected with the guy’s jaw. He reeled back, grabbing his cheek with one hand as he scrambled to keep his balance. The rest of his group rounded angrily and Bucky laughed.

“Come on then!”

Steve set her jaw and shoved the recovering sailor into them, all four landing on the floor with a clatter that made heads turn their way.

“Stay down.” She snapped.

 

Bucky whooped, leaning over her shoulder. “That’s right, loudmouth! Maybe next time you’ll think twice before insulting a lady.”

“You, outside.” Steve jerked her thumb at the door.

“Steve-”

Her voice could have frozen the Thames. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Behind them her admirer raised his head, spitting blood. “Bitch!”

Bucky lunged at him and Steve fisted her hand in the back of his coat, dragging him away. He scrambled to keep from being yanked off his feet, boots scuffing over the floorboards.

“Let go of me, Stevie!”

Jack leaned over the bar. “I think it’s time you lads were on your way.”

“Sorry ‘bout this. Jack.” Steve gave him an apologetic look, still hauling a struggling Bucky.

“No worries, lass.” He waved a hand.

The blonde slammed open a side door and tossed the brunette through first. It closed heavily behind them as Bucky righted himself, sweeping his hair out of his face.

“What’s the big idea? I was handling that guy!”

“I didn’t need you to. I had it under control before you got there.”

“He was being disrespectful. Somebody had to teach him a lesson.”

Steve sneered. “And it had to be you? You don’t need the MPs hauling you off over some stupid guy with a big mouth. You don’t need to get your ass beat when I can end the fight before it starts.”

“It wasn’t my ass in danger of getting’ beaten.”

“Could you get your head out of your rear for two minutes and listen to me?”

The brunette clenched his fist. “I wasn’t gonna sit there and watch him paw at you like that!”

 “I can fight my own battles, Buck!”

Steve’s shout rang off the brick walls of the alley, the sniper’s breath loud in the pause that followed. Bucky straightened, flexing his jaw.

“I never said you couldn’t.”

“I know that’s how it used to be back home,” Steve said, calmer, “I’d get in over my head and you’d wade in to save me. But things have changed. I don’t need you to protect me – I can do it myself.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’ve seen you in the field. I get it. It’s just…habit, Stevie. An old habit.”

She sighed. “Well do you think you can back off a bit on the macho act and let me get rid of the creeps from now on?”

“No.”

 

The blonde frowned. “Excuse me?”

“No,” Bucky looked up, eyes too dark, features too hard to make out in the shadowy lane, “I told you, I’m not gonna sit on my hands and let anyone treat you like that in front of me.”

“Buck,” Steve said pleadingly, “It’s great that you’ve got my back, but you’re making a big deal outta nothin’.”

“It is a big deal, Steve! The shit guys think they can get away with – that _I_ used to pull on _my_ dates? It’s not okay.”

She sighed. “I’m 100% with ya on that, buddy. But it’s my problem, and I can handle it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to either.”

The brunette cursed, throwing up his hands. “God, you just don’t get it, do ya?”

“Wha-”

Bucky’s arms flew around Steve’s waist and tugged her against him, their mouths crashing together. Steve squawked in surprise, hands brushing at his shoulders ineffectually for a second before she managed to get a grip. Bucky’s lips moved insistently against hers, the scent of him overwhelming: beer, hair pomade, boot leather, sweat and the soft, too-sweet trace of gunpowder. His hands were warm and they squeezed her _so_ hard but Steve couldn’t decide if she liked it or not because she was trying to stay afloat in the tidal wave of sensation crashing over her. By the time she could process the fact that she needed to breathe, she realised she was kissing him back.

Steve pressed a hand against Bucky’s chest gently and he growled against her lips, arms just as tight around her. She shoved again, harder, and he leaned back.

“Buck, what the hell are we doin’?”

“I dunno,” he laughed, “I’ve got no idea, Stevie.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I can’t get drunk anymore. Haven’t been able to since the factory, no matter how much I try.”

Steve took a shaky breath. “Oh.”

“Besides,” Bucky tilted his head, “You’re not drunk.”

 

She gnawed at her lip, eyes flitting over his face because meeting his gaze was too scary. “Buck, can you let go of me for a bit? I think I need to sit down.”

He dropped his arms. “Sure. I guess we should talk, huh?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled wryly, climbing onto a wooden crate by the back door. Bucky leaned against its neighbour, arms folded over his chest as he waited for her to start.

She took another breath, reassured when it came easily, and clasped her hands in her lap. “What was that about?”

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, still hugging himself with the other arm. “I dunno. I think seeing that guy go after you…it got to me. It’s _been_ getting to me for a while now.”

“Because we’re friends?” Steve’s voice sounded very small in the dark.

“Because I think I wanna be more than that.”

The blonde’s eyes dropped to her fingers as they twitched anxiously. “Because I’m a dame now.”

“It’s not like that. I’m not some jackass tryin’ to get up a pretty gal’s skirt.”

“You were never interested before. Unless…” she glanced up.

“Nah,” Bucky shook his head, “Thought didn’t cross my mind until a week or so after the factory. And before you jump to conclusions, it wasn’t cos I thought you were gorgeous – you are, but I’m not that shallow.”

Steve gave him an accusing look and Bucky shrugged.

“Or I am, but not when it comes to you. I guess seein’ you so different on the outside, I started looking for all the things I remembered that made you _you_. And they were all there, but better. You’re not sick anymore – Steve, I can’t tell you how fuckin’ relieved I am to watch you take more than four steps without puffing. I love that I don’t have to worry about you getting scarlet fever or TB or measles or any of that shit anymore.”

“Pretty excited about it too, Buck.” Steve drawled.

He snorted. “Shut up and let me finish, alright? Anyway…while I was looking for all those great Stevie traits, I couldn’t help but _notice_ all your great Stevie traits and how you’re kind of a super person to be around. We’ve known each other so long, I guess I kinda took for granted all the reasons we became friends in the first place.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Bucky put a finger to his lips and shushed her sternly. “I’ve never been friends with a dame before. And there you were, knowin’ all my stories and givin’ me shit like you always do, and looking like a damn film star…”

Steve smiled shyly. “Film star?”

Bucky grinned. “Yeah.”

 

She snickered, kicking her feet against the side of the box. Neither of them spoke for a while, lost in thought.

“So you decided I was the perfect girlfriend cos I put up with you?”

“More like I realised the only reason I’d never thought of you like that was cos we were both guys. I think maybe I did have feelings for ya, Stevie. I just couldn’t see them cos I didn’t know where to look. Hell, maybe that’s why I was always trying to fix you up.”

Steve chewed the inside of her cheek. “I might have had feelings for you too.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Might_. You just…you got all the girls, Buck! You were tall and strong and handsome, and I never held it against ya cos that’s just the way things were, but I used to get jealous when I saw you with your dates. Back then I thought it was cos I wanted to be you, but that’s not true. I never wanted to go from girl to girl the way you did. Now I’m thinking maybe I was jealous of _them_.”

Bucky let out a long, slow breath, shoulders hunched against the cold. “So what do we do?”

“I’m not sure.”

He huffed out a laugh. “And here I was hopin’ you’d have all the answers as usual.”

“I think we’ve both got a lot to think about. We’ve been friends forever, Buck. I don’t wanna mess it up by rushin’ into anything.”

“Agreed.”

“And we’d have to talk about you being jealous – I’m not the kinda girl who likes guys fighting over her.”

“But this?” Bucky gestured between them, “It’s…okay? You don’t hate the idea, or think I’m a nutjob or somethin’?”

“It’s strange, but not in a bad way. Feels like it could turn into something great, actually.” She smiled.

 “Swell. Then would it be okay if I kissed you again? Just once, before we go back inside.”

Steve grinned shyly. “Just once.”

He cupped her face in one big warm hand and pressed their lips together, softly. Steve leaned in, curling her fingers in the lapels of his coat. She’d kissed targets before, but it was never like that.

Bucky pulled away and for a second Steve had to fight down an urge to rest her face on his chest. “Come on. There are a couple of beers in there with our names on ‘em.”


	5. Chapter 5

In a way it was a blessing that they shipped out the next morning; it was impossible to get away from the rest of the team, so they couldn’t do anything stupid and hormonal like more kissing, and all the travel meant there was lots of time to think. Steve settled back in her seat on the train taking them towards the north-east front, letting the rocking motion soothe her as she considered the night before.

Bucky liked her, and she liked him. It sounded nice and straightforward, but there were still things to consider. What would happen if they tried to date and discovered that best friends don’t necessarily translate into compatible partners? She knew all the brunette’s flaws inside and out, and they hadn’t bothered her much – but it was different if she wanted to spend her life with him.

And there was no question about that part. If they got involved, it would be for good; their relationship wouldn’t be able to move backwards once they’d seen each toher as something more than brotherly and platonic. In some ways, it would make things easier if she went back to Brooklyn as Bucky’s girl; she could have her old life, just in a slightly different way, and she wouldn’t have those doubts about her future hanging overhead. It was better for her too, to be with someone who knew about Project Rebirth and her history, and not only didn’t care but was 100% supportive.

It was all so serious, and Steve didn’t want to be serious. She wanted to enjoy everything new and exciting in the present, like the sly grin Bucky kept throwing her across the aisle, or the way he looked in his uniform, or his casual air when he slid into the seat next to her in the back of their transport. She’d never felt so tense, a crackle of electricity under her skin that made her hands twitch, desperate to reach out. Now Steve knew she could have Bucky, it was hard to think about _not_ having him.

The truck got them as far as La Meuse, and then they were on foot, marching through the icy forests, bombed-out ruins and empty, pock-marked fields. The sun went down early but they pushed on, Steve finally signalling a halt in a thick copse of trees.

“We’ll camp here for a bit. No fire, dry rations only. Let’s set up the tents in a semi-circle, with a scout on either side of the clearing. Jones and Dernier, take first watch.”

The group busied themselves with the routine of making camp, Morita cracking open their supplies while the others stomped tent pegs into the frozen ground. Steve got hers up quickly; with her higher metabolism she didn’t feel the cold as much, but it was still pretty brisk. She crawled inside and unrolled her sleeping bag, making sure she wasn’t lying on any wet patches.

Bucky stuck his head through the flap. “Move over.”

“What?” Steve hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Sharing,” he tossed his blankets inside, forcing her to scramble out of the way, “It’s too cold to sleep alone – I could lose a toe.”

“Are you insane? The guys will talk.”

 

Bucky paused, fixing her with an incredulous look. “Stevie, relax. Falsworth and Morita are sharing. Gabe and Dernier will share once they come off watch. The only reason Dugan’s by himself is cos he snores. Nobody’s gonna start whisperin’ about us just cos we bunked down together.”

The blonde sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Sorry. I’m a bit paranoid about this thing getting out. I don’t need anyone questioning my command.”

“I get it, but acting weird won’t help. Try not to worry so much.”

Steve snorted. “Have we met?”

Bucky curled his lip. He stretched himself out on the bedding, resting his head on his hand. “Speaking of this thing between us…”

Steve checked that the tent was sealed against the wind, well aware she was stalling. “What about it?”

“Well, are we gonna make a decision about what it is?”

She sighed and lay down, facing the roof so she didn’t have to watch his face. “I guess we’ve both had time to think about it.”

“Yeah. I’m still interested if you are.”

“I am, but we need to discuss some stuff, Buck.” She glanced over, pleased at the solemn way he met her gaze.

“Like?”

“I don’t wanna parade it in front of the squad, even when we’re on leave. And you don’t get to pull that jealous act again. I’m perfectly capable of telling a guy I’m spoken for without your help.”

Bucky stuck his lip out. “What kind of man would I be if I sat back and did nothing while someone disrespected you?”

“The kind who trusts his girl to stand up for herself?”

The brunette looked unhappy, but he nodded. “I should know by now you don’t want anyone doin’ your fighting for you. I’ll behave.”

Steve traced her finger along the stitching on her sleeve, avoiding his gaze. “The other thing is…well, I need to know this is real for you, Buck. I’ve seen you take out girls and have a great time and then move on to the next one. If we do this it has to be for keeps, cos I don’t think I can go back to being just pals.”

A hand closed over hers, Bucky’s face barely visible in the darkness. When he spoke, his voice was thick and clumsy. “Stevie, we’ve been family since we were kids. You think I could treat you like some passing fling? I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“So you want this?” she gripped his fingers, “You, me…marriage? Children?”

 

He opened his mouth and she cut him off quickly.

“Not that I’m thinking about that stuff right now, but I can’t afford to not think about it, Buck. We can’t jump into this blind. I don’t want you to think I’m asking for too much too fast, but-”

“I always knew we were gonna spend our lives together, “Bucky smiled, “This might not be quite the way I imagined it, but life’s crazy like that. I know it’s a big deal, Stevie, but I’m with ya no matter what.”

Steve laughed quietly, biting her lip. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. It’s so strange.”

“But it feels good, yeah?” Bucky grinned.

“Yeah.”

“Come here.”

He raised his arm and she wiggled closer, pressing her hands against his chest. Bucky held her to him, fingers lightly circling at the base of her neck. It felt nice to be close, to be wrapped in his distinctive Bucky scent and warmth and feel. She turned her face towards his and fumbled a little until she could press their mouths together. He curled his hand in her hair, tugging her flush against him. Steve reached up and cupped his face in her hands, lips seeking his hungrily.

Something brushed the tent canvas and they sprang apart.

“Grub’s up, boss.” Dugan called from outside.

“We’ll be right there!” Steve sat up, smoothing her hair down.

“Too bad we didn’t sort this out back in London, huh?” Bucky snickered, “When we had all that alone time.”

“I’m sure we can restrain ourselves until this is all over.”

The brunette tapped her nose. “Got the rest of my life to maul you, right?”

Steve’s mouth quirked. “Apparently so.”

*****

The team spent another two days trekking towards the area where the factory should be, and Bucky and Steve managed to make the most of it. There was no question of fooling around when the walls were literally made of cloth, but the cold weather gave them an excuse to cuddle close, hands roaming curiously under the blankets. Their kisses were brief, stolen in those first fleeting moments when then sun came up. There were other opportunities though, times when they found an excuse to brush hands or share a wink, quiet conversations as they walked ahead of the others.

“Have I mentioned how great your legs look in those slacks?” Bucky murmured, eyes scanning the forest around them.

“No, actually. I’m almost offended.”

He clucked his tongue. “Forgive me, darlin’. I must have been distracted thinking about your lips.”

“What about them?” she smiled.

“Boss?” Morita called behind them.

“Hold that thought.” Steve punched his arm lightly, dropping back to see what Jim wanted.

The little man was crouching next to a rocky outcrop, Dernier beside him. Steve hurried over, bent low.

“What’s up?”

“Think there’s movement on the road over there.” He jerked his head.

“Vehicles?” Steve took a look.

“Trucks.”

“We’re getting close. Let’s see if we can get a visual.” She waved the men forwards, hands tightening around their weapons.

They jogged from cover to cover, dog tags and packs jingling, making their way through the forest until the trees started to clear. Steve spotted the road, a firm dirt path wide enough for big transports. She raised her fist and the squad gathered in.

“Morita, Jones and Dugan will cross the road here. We’ll get closer to the factory and wait for a vehicle to put Dernier’s plan into action.”

The Frenchman grinned. “Boom.”

“That’s right,” Steve grinned, “Move out.”

Jim, Gabe and Dum Dum checked the road before scrambling across, disappearing into the woods. Steve led the others east, keeping back from the tree line just in case, the blonde listening for any sign of the facility. They’d been walking for about five minutes when she heard another rumble. She raised her hand, the squad ducking behind the trees. Steve leaned out just far enough to see a HYDRA truck before crouching next to them.

“Alright Dernier, now’s your chance.”

 

The Frenchman nodded and opened his pack, taking out a large metal cylinder. He stood poised at the edge of the greenery, eyes on the road as the soldiers watched, Steve’s gloves creaking as she clenched her fists. The truck got closer and closer, until it was almost on top of them. Dernier threw himself into its path, rolling just fast enough for it to pass over him. Steve held her breath but they didn’t stop, driving on towards the facility.

“Let’s move!”

They trampled through the undergrowth, Dernier catching his gear as Falsworth threw it to him, Steve pulling ahead of the pack as she tried to keep the truck in sight. After a minute a blocky grey shape appeared through the trees, and as they got closer she could make out HYDRA’s familiar tall, dull architecture behind an imposing fence.  Steve fell back to avoid the sentries, re-joining the rest of her team. The vehicle slowed, and then stopped at the gates. Dernier glanced at Steve.

“Not yet.” She whispered.

The HYDRA guards were talking to the driver, hands on their weapons as they checked his paperwork. One of the soldiers nodded and waved him through, the gates swinging open. The truck’s engine chugged, the cab passing between the thick steel columns supporting the entrance.

“Now.”

Dernier hit the detonator and the truck exploded, flaming metal spraying in all directions, the force reducing the guardhouse to rubble.

“Let’s move!” Steve ran, leaving her men to catch up as she raced for the swirling fire of the gate.

She drew her staves, clutching one in each hand. The factory yard was chaos, troops running to the entrance, wounded men screaming, and when she burst over the wreckage of the truck it took them a second to react. Steve didn’t wait though, spinning her staves into the nearest guard hard enough to propel him into the one behind and knock them both down. The silent moment ended, soldiers opening fire on her. Steve rolled behind a chunk of wall and dropped the staves to aim her gun, strafing her attackers as they concentrated their fire on the insubstantial concrete shield.

A hail of bullets flew out of the smoke and flames beside her, HYDRA personnel dropping. The Commandos ran through, shots ringing out with a deafening rhythm, and Steve seized the distraction. She slung her weapon over her shoulder and grabbed the staves, bolting towards the main factory door while everyone was facing the other way. She gave it a solid kick and it flew off the hinges into a guard, both falling with a metallic crash. The troops inside opened fire and Steve ducked behind a row of machinery, rounds ricocheting past her face.

She took a second to assess the area.  The facility was long and narrow, with a row of doors along one wall. The machinery was taller than usual too, the huge generators turning like villainous Ferris wheels. A series of catwalks ran between them, but the HYDRA troops were concentrated on the ground floor, and the control room was tucked in the back corner beside a stack of crates.

Steve slipped her arm through the gap between a couple of switchboards and threw her stave, the metal tumbling end over end to slam into a soldier’s helmet. He dropped and she seized the chance to move forwards at a half-crouch, retrieving the vibranium rod as she passed. She whipped it into a fighter as he lunged forward, the blow knocking his gun so the blast shot past her head and hit one of the generators. The blonde dove for cover as the damaged panel exploded, the shock wave knocking her opponent flat.

 

Steve hesitated, sure the whole factory was about to go up, but nothing happened. She glanced up and saw a gaping hole where the ruined power cell had been, but the thick metal on either side was mostly intact.

“Thank you, Dr Zola,” she shook her head, “That’s a weird sentence.”

Falsworth ran through the doors, semi-automatic jumping in his hands as he pinned down the HYDRA troops rushing towards Steve. “Orders, ma’am?”

“Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’!” Steve waved, driving her fist into a soldier’s stomach before vaulting into his friend’s shoulder feet-first.

She skipped over them, heading for the control room. It had a sturdy-looking steel door and a large window; Steve considered her options for half a second before smashing the glass and tumbling through. The room was empty, but recently occupied judging by the spilled coffee on the floor. There were a couple of control panels with symbols she didn’t understand, an empty desk with a couple of ledgers on the shelf above, and a map so cryptic she wasn’t even sure it was Europe. She snatched it off the wall just in case, folding it hastily to fit in her jacket.

Steve examined the controls for the obligatory self-destruct but couldn’t find it, her German not quite good enough for some of the more technical labels. There was another button that caught her eye though.

“Security system?”

Steve bit her lip, surveying the warehouse. Falsworth was still firing as he moved closer to her, Dugan behind him cleaning up the stragglers with good-natured glee. There were still about a dozen HYDRA men, ducking between the machines and aiming their guns down the rows.

“Commandos, take cover!”

Dugan and Falsworth both stopped, glancing at her as shots flew past. She gave them a thumbs up and Dum Dum nodded, running for the exit with Falsworth close behind. Steve waited until they were almost at the door and slammed her palm against the button.

Metal spigots dropped out of the ceiling, two rows on either side of the building that ran the full length of the aisles. There was a deep whine that made the hair on her neck prickle, and then with a whoosh they all discharged at once in a blinding flash of blue. The energy rained straight down, avoiding the generators but downing half of the remaining HYDRA troops. Steve whooped, hoisting her gun against her shoulder to pick off the rest as the system recharged with a second whine.

 

The blue light flashed, men screaming, and Steve inched out of the control room. She stayed clear of the aisle, crouching in the shelter of a generator. She waited for the next pause and sprinted towards one of the side doors, throwing herself against the metal so hard it smashed into the wall outside. Morita and Bucky both looked up as she barrelled into the yard, the smaller man jogging over.

“Boss?”

“What’s the situation out here?”

“Good,” Bucky wandered over, eyes raking their surrounds, “Dugan’s cleaning up the perimeter. What’s the situation in there?”

“Big turrets in the ceiling – I don’t know how long their reserves are gonna last, but we can’t go in until they run out. Morita, stay by the door and take out anyone who tries to escape.”

“Yes ma’am.” He threw a salute, taking up his position.

“Buck, there are these big generators inside but they won’t blow like the regular kind. We’re gonna need to take out each compartment individually. Can you make a start once the interior’s secure?”

The brunette leaned down and picked up a fallen soldier’s gun, readying it with a click. “Aye aye, captain.”

Steve rolled her eyes. “I’m not a captain.”

“Nah,” Bucky smirked, dropping his voice, “You’re too cute for that.”

He walked towards Morita, leaving Steve to shake her head with a stupid grin and then immediately hate herself for being so transparent. She walked around the corner and found Gabe and Dernier examining a row of storage units with heavy steel doors.

“Anything I can do to help?”

Jones smiled. “All good, boss. We’re just discussing the fastest way to get these puppies open.”

She studied the door for a moment and nodded, sliding her staves into their sheaths. Steve spun on one foot, delivering a loud roundhouse kick to the lock. The metal dented, leaves swinging open with the momentum to reveal tightly stacked steel crates. Steve levered the lid off one and found a row of small Cube power packs, glowing their eerie blue.

“Dernier got any more of those remote detonators?” she asked.

Gabe conferred with him quietly. “Sure.”

“Don’t worry about the doors then,” Steve smirked, “We’re not gonna need ‘em.”

 

They put some distance between themselves and the factory before Steve let Dernier blow it, figuring the resulting explosion would have every HYDRA and Nazi soldier in the area running towards it like moths to a flame. They were straining the limits of the detonator’s signal when the blonde finally nodded.

“Alright. Let her rip.”

Dernier gave a tight, smug smile and pressed the button. The forest was still for a moment, the Commandos exchanging glances full of anticipation, and then there was a roar so loud it shook the branches. The earth shuddered as a giant blue and red cloud bloomed over the tree tops, quickly disappearing. The men whooped and clapped each other’s arms.

Steve waved for silence. “Nice work. Now come on, we need to keep moving.”

They made camp in an abandoned windmill, the clear fields giving them good warning if the enemy approached. The mood was light, their victory still fresh; Dum Dum produced a bottle of bourbon from his bag and passed it around, the men laughing quietly as they swapped tales and cleaned weapons.

It was late when Steve finally stood. “I’m gonna get some rest. You should all do the same – we’ve got more walking to do tomorrow.”

“Night boss.” Gabe waved.

“Three cheers for Agent Rogers.” Dum Dum raised the bottle.

“Cheers, cheers, cheers!” They echoed, voices hushed.

She gave them a bemused smile and headed upstairs. The mill was about four or five stories high, open from the floor to the roof with platforms so the workers could operate and service the machinery. Steve had laid her gear out on the highest one, since she had the best eyesight; she figured since she barely slept she could keep watch from the window there. The others had split up, half on the ground floor guarding the door, the others a few levels up where it was warmer. She could hear them talking below, but she tuned it out and tried to nap.

Steve woke a few hours later to silence. She rolled over and froze, face to face with Bucky.

“Hey.” He whispered.

“Hey. Thought you were downstairs.”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Just after two.”

“You should try to get some rest – you’ve got the next watch.”

“So I’ve been thinking,” Bucky nestled closer, ignoring her, “You should definitely go to art school when we get back. We can get a place by the train line, I’ll take that job at the garage and you could waitress or somethin’ part-time until we’ve saved enough for a wedding.”

 

“You wanna get married?” Steve’s brows shot up.

“Sure. I thought you did too.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking in a year or two.”

The brunette smiled wryly. “Hell, it might take us that long to get some money together anyway. I just thought we should have a plan, you know?”

Steve reached up and entwined their fingers, biting her tongue thoughtfully. “How would it work? Us, getting married. What would you tell your family?”

“Figured we can stick pretty close to the truth. You were working for a war agency, I met you over here, we fell head over heels, etc.”

She made a face. “I’ll have to invent a whole back story. I hate lying to your ma.”

“Well it’s easier than trying to explain how little Steve turned into a Stephanie.”

“True. I gotta be careful not to give myself away.”

Bucky snickered. “You are a _spy_.”

“Shut up,” Steve nudged him, smiling, “Okay, so where’s the ceremony?”

“St Agnes. A beautiful church for my beautiful Stevie.”

“I’ll ask your sister to make my dress.”

The brunette grinned. “She’d like that.”

“And afterwards? I don’t wanna end up stayin’ at home all day Buck, I’ll go out of my mind.”

He was quiet, eyes on the ceiling as he mulled it over. “You could teach art to rich kids. That’d give you plenty of time to work on your own stuff. And I’d help out with the housework, even if I’m hopeless with the laundry. I’d take you out too, to the movers and Coney Island, nice restaurants, parks. We’ll have a blast.”

“Sounds great. What about kids?”

“I’m guessing we both want some.” Bucky glanced at her.

Steve grimaced. “I did, before the experiment. Now the idea’s kinda terrifying. I’m not sure I wanna grow a human being inside me – sounds like a lot of work.”

She expected him to laugh, but instead he draped his arm over her waist and stroked her back. “Hey, I can’t argue with that. We’ll adopt.”

She beamed. “I like that. Take in some kids who need homes – that’s really nice, Buck.”

“We can raise ‘em all to be ball players.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, shoving him away. “What, even the girls?”

“ _Especially_ the girls.”

*****

Steve crept forward, Falsworth just visible at the corner of her vision. She signalled him to break right, the Englishman nodding once before slipping away. The squad were spread out along a wide front, the warehouse looming over them. There was a band of flat ground surrounding the walls, the trees cut back to give its defenders a better line of sight. The Commandos wouldn’t be able to get close like they had before, and as much as Steve hated the idea of a full-on assault, she couldn’t see another way in.

She checked the angles from her position to the front gate, glancing at the canopy above, and spotted what looked like a good sniper’s nest. She shuffled to her left, crossing the distance with a low crawl until she could see Bucky.

“We’re about to move in. That should be a good vantage point.” She gestured at the thick branch overhead.

“Great,” he smiled stiffly, “You’ll be able to watch me kicking HYDRA’s ass from a safe distance.”

She frowned. “Buck-”

“I know, I know,” the brunette sighed, “You lead the forward charge, I’m cover. It would be emasculating if you weren’t so damn good at it.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t mind my belly-achin’. It’s a good plan, Stevie.”

“Are you sure?” she grimaced, “Seems risky.”

“Since when do you care about risk?” Bucky gave a wry grin, “We’ll be fine, agent.”

She wormed closer until she could brush a hand against his, mouth trembling. “Stay safe, okay?”

“Quit fussin’ before I start thinking of ways to cheer you up that go against that whole secret romance rule,” he grumbled, “And next time, I get to storm the gates with ya.”

Steve smirked. “Next time, I promise.”

She made her way back to her position, listening as Bucky quietly scaled the tree, his boots scraping against the wood. She waited until he was settled and raised her hand.

“Now!”

Shots rang out as Bucky and some of the others picked men off the walls. Steve was already running forwards, her own gun in hand as she zig-zagged to avoid the hastily returned fire. Clumps of dirt flew as HYDRA’s blasts ate into the ground by her feet, leaving a trail of craters as Steve neared the wall. She pulled the trigger, not aiming at anyone in particular, but close enough to make them duck. She reached the base of the wall and slung the gun over her shoulder, hooking her hands in the tiny gaps between the concrete blocks and hauling herself up.

 

Behind her, Gabe cleared the tree line with one of Stark’s modified mini-guns, the enormous barrel sending big rounds smashing into the gate and the men crouched above it. Steve reached the top of the wall and grabbed a soldier who was leaning over trying to shoot her, tossing him to the ground below. She vaulted up onto the walkway, slamming a shoulder into the nearest HYDRA man and sending him down after his buddy. She grabbed the next one and spun him in front of her to take a blast meant for her chest, knocking him into the yard with barely a look as she tackled the shooter.

Steve worked her way along the top of the wall, ducking to avoid fire from the men on the ground as she tore through the sentries, sending them flying into each other and toppling anyone who tried to take a shot at the Commandos outside. She was trying to find a clear path down to the gate to let the rest of her squad in when there was a thud that vibrated through the stone under her feet. She glanced back to find a huge hole punched through the metal and a massive scorched circle of earth. The blonde scanned the plain and spotted Dum Dum and Dernier chuckling as they wheeled the purloined HYDRA cannon closer for another shot.

With the squad free to enter, and Gabe already running through the breach with his gun flashing, Steve focused on keeping the high ground. She jumped over a body and swung a punch at a soldier, who managed to avoid it. He smacked the butt of his gun into her sternum and Steve took a step back, stumbling on the corpse. She fell, trying to catch herself before she went over the side, and the soldier aimed his weapon.

He froze, a dark hole in the middle of his forehead, and collapsed against the edge of the wall. Steve let out a breath and scrambled to her feet, giving a vague wave of thanks to the shape in the trees that was Bucky. Gabe had his back to the wall, firing relentlessly, and Morita and Falsworth fighting together in a skirmish by the remains of the gate. Dum Dum and Dernier were still wheeling the cannon in, firing a blast into the upper levels of the main factory every few feet. The wall was starting to look like Swiss cheese, and Steve wasn’t sure how long the roof would stay up if they kept going.

She jumped down into the yard, landing with a tumble that brought her back to her feet, and took off around the side of the building. There were a rows of tanks parked under camouflage netting, but no drivers in sight. Steve ran back the other way, shoving men aside until she reached the cannon.

“Dernier, there’s a whole line of mechs on the other side just begging for your attention.”

“ _Oui_ , agent.”

“Dugan, go with him and give him cover.”

He frowned. “What about this baby?”

Steve grinned. “I can handle her.”

“Alright. Try not to have too much fun – they say it’s bad for your character.” He ran a finger along the brim of his hat, hurrying off with Dernier a step behind.

 

Steve got behind the cannon and pushed, getting the wheels rolling without too much effort. She worked up to a sprint, the metal surging forward like a plough blade or a locomotive, bowling straight into a soldier who stepped into her path and sending him into Gabe’s next salvo. Steve charged across the yard without slowing down, heading straight for the factory doors. She put her head down, dug her toes in, and sped up.

The cannon crashed through and Steve flung herself onto the barrel, holding onto the big gun as she fired at the HYDRA personnel ahead. They were hanging over the gantries and crouched in the scant protection of the conveyor belts, with the noticeably exception of one area on the upper level that was covered in rubble and heaped bodies thanks to Dum Dum and Dernier’s efforts. The factory itself looked like an armoury, rifles laid out on the production lines, bombs stacked in the middle of a clear-walled room that was partially sunk into the centre of the floor.

Steve shifted her weight as she neared the far wall, swinging herself to one side with a swift, hard yank on the barrel that turned the cannon about 90 degrees. She did it again, spinning it to face the way she’d come in, just as it rolled to a stop. The blonde jumped off and ducked behind the machine, readying the controls. They glowed with a deep, flickering blue light as she clutched them, careful not to squeeze too tight. Steve waited until the HYDRA troops were closing in, then shifted the cannon an inch to the left.

“ _Auf wiedersehen_ , boys.”

She fired, throwing her hands over her ears as she made herself as small as possible. The shot sped across the room into the side of the bomb enclosure, and bounced off.

Steve popped her head up. “Shit.”

She jerked it back down as a wave of shots turned the air around her blue, an errant blast destroying the cannon’s controls. Steve rolled away from the gun, moving across the factory floor in wide, sweeping strides that kept her torso low. She grabbed a conveyor belt, swiping her legs into a fighter and landing on his back with a nauseating snap. She yanked a grenade off her belt and pulled the pin, giving it a slow overhand lob onto the roof of the enclosure before turning to grapple with a soldier. She slammed his gun into his jaw and wrenched it out of his grip, ducking as the grenade went off. Steve glanced back, licking her lips, and swore.

“What is that thing made of?” she scowled at the untouched chamber.

Steve battled her way across the floor and up the metal stairs, trying to reach the high ground. She could hear some of the other Commandos by the entrance, Gabe and Jim yelling to each other above the rattle of machine-gun fire. Outside there was a series of booms that told her Dernier was hard at work, some of them loud enough to make the damaged factory wall shudder. Maybe her explosives man could handle the mysterious box once he was done with the tanks.

Remembering the questionable structural integrity of the roof, Steve threw herself into the fight. With her staves in hand she cut a swathe down the gantry, twirling them around her hands and hammering the ends into one assailant’s visor, shattering the glass. She yanked them free with a flick of her wrists that sent him soaring over the rail to land on the blackened (but disappointingly robust) top of the bomb chamber.

 

“Morita!” she yelled over the railing.

“Boss?” he glanced up, sideswiping a HYDRA troop that ran at him.

“See if you can get that thing open!” she pointed.

He nodded and ran towards the containment chamber, and Steve hurried along the catwalk. A soldier fired a couple of rapid shots that she caught on her staves, swinging one of the metal rods into his elbow as she jammed the other into his throat. He went down and Steve didn’t waste any time, trampling him as she ran towards a fighter who screamed through clenched teeth and jabbed at her with his bayonet. She parried with her staves, batting it aside and headbutting him in the brief second before he could recover. The next one didn’t bother trying to be clever, blocking her strikes with his rifle in both hands, arms trembling from the force of her blocks. Steve clenched her jaw and drove her knee up between his legs, slamming both staves onto the back of his neck as he hunched forwards in pain.

She stopped, breathing harshly, and realised the factory had gone quiet. The blonde swept her gaze across the room but there was no movement; everyone in a HYDRA uniform was down. She clambered back downstairs and found Gabe, Falsworth and Dum Dum crouching over Jim as he leaned against the transparent wall of the bomb storage locker, the big man slapping his shoulder amiably.

“You’re a tough son of a bitch, pal.”

Steve frowned. “What’s the situation?”

Gabe stood, ushering her a couple of steps away. “Morita’s hurt pretty bad. He took a shot across the abdomen. James is patching him up but we need a real medic.”

“Alright. Get Peggy on the line. There’s a village not too far from here, right?”

The soldier nodded. “About seven miles west.”

“Tell her we’ll meet the surgeons there.”

“Yes ma’am.” He jogged off.

Steve took his spot next to Jim, smiling as she took his hand. “How ya goin’?”

“Been better, boss.” He said shakily, sweat beading along his upper lip.

“Well James is gonna get you wrapped up tighter than a mummy, and then we’ll all take a ride to see the docs. You just hang in there, okay?”

“Don’t you worry about him, Steve,” Dum Dum pulled his bourbon out of a rucksack, “We’ll have him up and dancin’ in no time.”

“Dugan, go find Dernier and ask how many explosives he’s got left,” she eyed the seemingly-unbreakable enclosure, “We’re not quite done here.”

“What if he’s out?” he frowned, “There were a lot of tanks, boss.”

“Then we’ll just have to get creative.”


	6. Chapter 6

Peggy was waiting for them when Falsworth pulled the truck onto the main street, doctors hurrying to help Dum Dum and Bucky unload Jim. They carried him into the church, yelling instructions to a harried-looking nurse.

“Can I stay with him?” Steve asked.

Peggy placed a hand on her arm. “Let the doctors work. You got him here; the best thing you can do for Morita now is take care of your team.”

She sighed. “You’re right. I think everyone’s a bit shaken.”

“Father Smets’ made room for you in the church loft. Why don’t you clean up, and then you can give me your report?”

“Can it wait? I think I should be with the guys.”

Peggy gave her a sympathetic look. “Of course.”

The village was too small to have a proper bar, but the villagers were willing to sell them a couple of bottles of wine, and the Commandos took them up to the church attic to wait for word on Morita. Steve tried to keep their spirits up but she knew they were as worried as she was; it was the first time HYDRA had managed to score a hit, and it didn’t feel good. She sat on the floor close to Bucky, wishing she could reach out and take his hand. She needed the comfort.

About an hour later, Peggy joined them. “The doctors are finished.”

“And?” Steve stood.

“The blast cauterised part of his wound, so there wasn’t too much blood loss,” she smiled, “He’ll have to spend some time in bed but he’s going to be fine.”

“Wahoo!” Dum Dum thrust his drink in the air, “Told ya he was tough.”

“Alright!” Gabe clapped, “This calls for more hooch. Dernier, come sweet talk that old matron at the store for me – she’s gotta have something stronger stashed away.”

Dugan rummaged around in his bag as they hurried off, pulling out a deck of cards. “Wanna play, Peg?”

“How are you at poker?”

“Five card, or Texas hold’em?”

Steve slipped down the stairs, leaving them to debate the rules. She needed a moment of quiet, just so she could properly let herself feel relieved. Jim was okay, and they’d taken down another factory. She was one step closer to Schmidt.

 

The blonde took the back entrance out of the church. There was a thin path leading out of sight around a hillock, and she followed it around to a shady graveyard, some of the headstones broken or chipped. There was no fence, the neatly arranged rows giving way to mossy ground and then forest. It was peaceful though, and Steve sat on a bench at the far end, leaning back against a tree with her eyes closed.

Someone sat beside her, a familiar arm around her shoulders. Steve rested her face against Bucky’s neck. “All I kept thinking was how it could have been you.”

“It wasn’t.”

“This time, yeah, but what about tomorrow, and the day after? Buck, I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

“What about me, huh?” he stroked her cheek, “You think I’d be able to keep it together if something happened to you?”

“I’m not as breakable as I used to be,” Steve clung to him, “Not as breakable as you.”

“I may not be a super human, but I’m not made of glass either, darlin’. We’re both here because there’s a job that needs doing, and when it’s done we’ll go home together.”

“You don’t know that.”

The brunette shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”

“Buck,” she fisted her fingers in his shirt, “I know we’ve been takin’ it slow, but I don’t wanna wait. I don’t wanna miss out if one of us doesn’t make it.”

“Sounds like you don’t have a lot of faith in my hunch.” He clucked his tongue.

“Don’t,” she sat back so she could see his face, brow furrowed, “Don’t brush it off with a joke like you always do. This is too important.”

Bucky’s smile faded. “Sorry. Tell me what you need, Stevie. Anything.”

She stood, offering her hand. He took it and she turned away from the village, leading him into the trees. Her thoughts had become remarkably calm; maybe it was because she felt like she was reclaiming what little control she could over the situation, or maybe it was just the cool focus of embarking on a new mission.

They walked until Steve could barely see the graveyard through the thick, tangled undergrowth. The ground eased down into a grassy hollow, a perfect circular dip that could have been natural or the remnant of some old bomb blast. It was pretty though, even in the winter, with tall bare trees and a view of the cloudless grey sky.

She stopped at the bottom of the incline and turned, wrapping her arms around Bucky’s neck. Steve leaned in slowly and kissed him, his breath warm against cold skin.

“Please.”

 

“You sure about this?” he murmured, “It’s not exactly the Ritz.”

“I don’t care. As long as you’re here, it’s perfect.”

Bucky smiled, the same smile she’d seen a thousand times, the one that promised trouble and safety and laughter and home. He reached up and stroked a finger down her neck, slipping beneath her collar along the bone, then lower until he was just above the beige cotton of her bra. He traced it back again, touching the tip to her first button. His eyes searched hers but Steve met his gaze steadily, fisting her hands in his hair by way of encouragement.

The brunette popped it open slowly, moving to the next one and then the next, all the way to her belt. He tugged the shirttails free and pushed it down her arms, letting the fabric fall. She was wearing a white singlet underneath, and he peeled it off like it was made of paper, carefully guiding it over her head. Bucky’s eyes roamed over her, fingers sweeping along the line of her ribs, her waist, her hip.

‘You’re gorgeous, Stevie.”

He stripped his jacket off carelessly and shook it out, spreading it flat on the ground. He lay on his side and tucked his hair back off his face with a bashful look.

“Sorry. Best I can do, short notice.”

Steve grinned, kneeling. “It’s sweet. You hate gettin’ your clothes dirty.”

She kissed him, hands kneading the taut muscles in his neck and mussing his hair. The blonde let them drift down Bucky’s chest until she could reach his belt, the sniper inhaling sharply when she touched the clasp.

“You okay?” Steve frowned.

He blinked. “Yeah, fine – just moving fast, that’s all.”

“I don’t think either of us wants to get caught out here with our pants down.” she smirked.

“Too cold for that.” He agreed, leaning in to kiss her neck as Steve fussed with the buckle.

She got his trousers open and wormed her hand in, Bucky giving a muffled yelp as her fingers brushed his warm flesh. Steve’s smile turned wicked as she closed her hand around his erection and felt it twitch. She started a lazy stroke, the brunette biting his knuckles as his eyes rolled shut.

“Fuck, Stevie.” He reached up and tugged her closer, squashing her arm between them awkwardly as they kissed.

Steve didn’t care though. She liked the silliness of it – after all, the idea of being half-naked in the woods with her oldest friend was kind of ridiculous. It felt right not to make it some huge theatrical seduction: just two soldiers fumbling around in the grass and the dew, looking for closeness.

 

Bucky’s fingers were clamped around Steve’s biceps but he released his grip and squeezed them into the tight space between their bodies. The blonde kept stroking, a thrill going through her as Bucky fought with her buttons and zips. Finally he got her waistband open, fingers snaking in to rub her folds through the plain white underwear. Steve arched her back with a cry, and he stopped.

Bucky held a finger to his lips. “Geez, Stevie. We’re in a warzone.”

She gave him a tart look, about to retort when he ground his hand over her button and the words were snatched away. It was Bucky’s turn to look smug, the sniper pressing his lips against the hollow of her throat.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you speechless. It’s cute.”

“Cute?” Steve gaped in mock-outrage.

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Very.”

“I’m your commanding officer, Barnes.”

He leaned in, cheek resting against hers as he murmured. “So give me an order.”

Steve’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. “Alright. Don’t close your eyes, sergeant.”

Bucky scoffed. “That’s it?”

Steve didn’t answer; instead she sped up, her hand shuttling up and down his shaft, fingers grazing the tip. The brunette groaned, thrusting his hips up, eyelids fluttering.

She stopped. “Uh, uh, uh. What did I say, sergeant?”

“What? They’re open.”

“Keep ‘em that way.”

“Of course, Agent. Wouldn’t wanna miss the view.”

Steve started again, movements as firm as she could make them without hurting him, pace lazy but persistent. Bucky circled his fingers over her button, making her bite her lip, his other hand shoving her bra down until he could get to her nipple. He traced it with the tip of his fingers, barely touching, and she gave a smothered cry. He was watching her face for something, brows furrowed. She wasn’t sure what it was, and for a second she felt a wave of embarrassment at being so unexperienced before realising that was stupid – all the experience in the world wouldn’t have prepared her for being the woman in this situation.

And, she thought with a smile, Bucky didn’t care if she was a virgin. He knew everything about her, all the good and the bad, and he loved her anyway. Her eyes widened, and the brunette smiled.

“Go on, Stevie. Ask.”

“Do you love me, Buck?”

He seized her free hand, bringing it to his lips. “You’ve got no fucking idea.”

 

Steve exhaled loudly. “Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you,” she cupped his face, “I should have said it before, but I didn’t-”

“Wanna jinx it? I know how you feel.” Bucky kissed her.

They fell on each other, mouths colliding messily as their hands fumbled in the limited space between them. True to his word Bucky’s eyes met hers steadily, and something in his gaze made Steve feel feverish, her chest turning pink under its heat. She didn’t want to waste any more time.

“Buck.” She gasped, grinding desperately into his touch.

He growled under his breath and rolled Steve onto her back, watching her face as she got comfortable on the uneven ground. “We good?”

“I’m growin’ old here, Barnes.” She tugged his lapels.

He laughed and pushed her trousers the rest of the way down, gently tugging them over her feet. The brunette knelt between her legs, hands caressing her thighs in a rhythmic way that was more nerves than affection. Steve ran her fingers over his neck and kissed him, rocking her hips forward.

“You sure? You only get one first time, Stevie.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass where I am, as long as it’s with you.”

Bucky rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, and she thought about teasing him for a second before realising no joke was going to deflate the tension. Instead she wrapped her arms around his waist, hands flat on his back under his shirt, and tried to relax. He shifted his hand, skimming over her mound and around to her entrance. His finger dipped inside her and she took a shaky breath.

“Did I hurt ya?” Bucky froze, frowning.

“No. No, uh, it was – um – good.”

The frown turned into a smirk, his finger twisting back into her passage, and Steve gasped. Apart from a slight sting of discomfort, she was fine – more than fine. She arched towards him impatiently and Bucky chuckled.

“Hold your horses, Stevie. We’ll get there.”

“Sure, but am I gonna get frostbite first?”

He made a thoughtful face. “Good point.”

 

He added a second finger, and that _definitely_ stung. But Steve was already slick with want, and with her accelerated healing the stretch only hurt for a moment before easing into a satisfying kind of pressure that made her hungry for more.

“Buck.” She whined.

“Gimme a second here, Stevie, or I’m gonna embarrass myself.”

He rubbed the tip of his cock over her folds and the blonde practically cooed, fingers digging into his back. Bucky pressed himself against her entrance, eyes locked on hers with his lip between his teeth, and she nodded. The brunette pushed forward gently, swinging his hips as he worked his way inside her an inch at a time.

Steve’s eyes went huge at the first _pop_ of her flesh as it parted just long enough to let him in, her muscles clamping tight around his member as it dragged across her nerve endings. Then he was all the way in, breathing raggedly as he balanced on his hands over her, looking as shocked as she felt. Steve wanted to say something reassuring but she couldn’t, every thought banished from her head. Instead she squeezed his shoulders pleadingly, arching her back.

Bucky inhaled with a soft groan and started moving, rolling his hips as he leaned down to kiss her. She felt an ache that hadn’t been there before, a need that only got worse as her senses spiralled madly. Steve was overwhelmed by the weight of him, the heat, the lingering scents of gunpowder and old blood layered over dirt, sweat and pomade. His lips were cool on hers, his breath a cloud of fog on her cheek. She could hear every hitch of Bucky’s breath, every rustle of his clothing. When she tilted her head back she could see bare branches reaching up to the clear grey sky, and she felt so far away from everything, from Schmidt and the war and Project Rebirth. For the first time since her ma died, she didn’t have to think about anything but this moment – whatever came next could wait.

Conscious of her new strength, Steve put her hands flat on the ground above her head where she wouldn’t be tempted to grab the sniper. Bucky smiled and entwined his fingers with hers, leaning on his elbows. She frowned.

“I could hurt you, Buck.”

“I can handle it.”

“How are you gonna shoot with a broken hand?”

“Have a little faith, Stevie.”

She opened her mouth to argue and he thrust forward quickly, the blonde biting her lip. He did it again and her fingers twitched, squeezing his – but he squeezed back just as hard and kept going, driving into her with short, sharp strokes that made Steve itch with impatience. She struggled to stay quiet, muffling her gasps against the crook of his neck. He plunged deep and she jerked, nipping the skin.

“ _Fuck_ , Stevie.” Bucky growled, shoulders hunching as he sped up.

 

The blonde licked her lips and grinned, determined to make him curse again. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw and trailed upwards, teeth closing gently on his ear lobe. Bucky shuddered, dropping his head to scatter bites across her chest. Steve yanked her fingers free of his and curled them in his hair, holding him in place as she tilted her pelvis towards him. The heat in her limbs was starting to pool in her stomach, passing through her with a prickly, anxious feeling like she was missing something. She tightened her legs around him, nudging him deeper, and Bucky looked up with a smirk.

“That’s it, Stevie, come on.”

He leaned back and gripped her waist, fingers digging into the muscle as he groaned. Steve wrapped her fingers around his forearms, grounding herself in the realness of him as the pressure swamped her mind. Then it dropped, like flicking a switch, and her whole body tensed with a keen. She was vaguely aware of a worrying crack and Bucky swearing again, but it was at the edge of her thoughts; everything had whited out to a long, slow vibration down her spine that felt simultaneously too brief and eternal, dragging on while she gasped for breath. Her muscles oscillated, closing around him, and Bucky gave a surprised cry and went rigid, emptying himself into her.

Steve lay there for a moment with her eyes closed, just enjoying the warm looseness of her body, the faint tingle in her thighs. Then she remembered Bucky, frowning as her eyes snapped open.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you-”

“Nah,” he smiled, shaking his head, “Nah, you were fine.”

He slid out of her carefully and Steve whimpered at the change, making him chuckle. Bucky lay beside her, an arm above his head casually. Steve hugged herself, gaze on the empty sky.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Steve made a face. “You don’t have to spare my feelings, Buck. I know you’re used to girls with more experience, and I don’t expect to be good at everythin’ the first time.”

He cupped her jaw in his hand, thumb stroking her cheek. “That was amazing.”

“Oh,” she ducked her head, breaking into a smile, “Well. Good.”

Bucky snorted, kissing her brow. “You’re adorable.”

She slapped his chest, the brunette laughing as he rolled out of reach, and Steve shook her head. “We should get back.”

But she didn’t get up, instead resting her head on Bucky’s chest, her hand splayed over his shoulder. His arm was solid and warm around her, fingers tracing along her waist light enough to tickle.

“Stevie,” he cleared his throat, “There’s something I wanna tell ya.”

 

“Okay.” She said, enjoying the rumble of his voice against her skin.

“You remember the place you found me, at the factory?”

“Yeah. Falsworth said lots of guys got taken to that room, but they never came back.” Steve hugged him, afraid to voice the fact that he might have been one of them if she hadn’t shown up when she did.

“Zola was experimenting on them,” Bucky took a shuddery breath, voice cracking, “They didn’t make it. I did.”

Steve lifted herself up until she could see his face. “Are you saying he did something to you?”

“He gave me a bunch of needles…it made my head fuzzy. Everything hurt. There was this bright light, and I think I was screamin’…”

He stopped, expression distant as he stared at the sky. Steve bit her lip and took his hand, squeezing gently.

“Next thing I knew, you were there,” Bucky’s mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile, “And it was chaos. I didn’t get a moment to breathe until we were back at camp, and I didn’t notice anything strange for a day or two.”

“Define strange.”

“I’m stronger than I should be. Quicker too. I was an alright shot before but my aim is crazy good now – I barely have to look before I pull the trigger, and my targets always go down. I’ve got more energy, plus I’m eatin’ all the time, and there’s the not getting drunk thing.”

“Buck,” Steve said breathlessly, “That sounds a lot like me.”

He smiled wryly at her. “Yeah, I thought so too. Would make sense Schmidt had Zola working on recreating the serum. I guess he got part of the way there.”

“You should have said something earlier. We could have asked Erskine to look at you-”

“No. I don’t want anyone else poking at me. I don’t wanna be used the way the army wanted to use you. I just wanna stay with the team and take down Schmidt and his lapdog.”

“Yeah, but what about side effects? If Zola’s attempts killed all the other subjects-”

“It hasn’t killed me yet,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m putting that on the future problems pile. We might not even see the end of the war, Stevie, so let’s just get through this before we start worrying about all the new ways to die.”

Steve could have argued, could have told him he was being an idiot, but Bucky was right – their work was dangerous. They didn’t need more distractions and bad news. “Okay.”

“Just like that? You’re not even gonna scold me for not taking care of myself?”

Steve kissed his cheek. “I don’t need to. You’ve heard it all before. And if you tell me we don’t need to worry about it til later, then we won’t.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Steve Rogers?”

She laughed. “I think the real question is, what are _you_ gonna do with me?”

“Oh, I’ve got plans.”

“Really?”

“Count on it.”

She giggled, nestling back against him. Bucky kissed the top of her head, snuggling closer.

“Thanks for telling me, Buck.”

“You’re my best friend, Stevie.”

She sat up. “Speaking of friends, ours are probably wondering where we are.”

Bucky tugged her back down, grip like iron. “Let ‘em.”

“We have to go back sometime.”

“Not yet though,” he kissed her, “This is our moment, Stevie, and I’m not giving it up easy.”

She gave him a teasing grin. “I dunno about that. Didn’t take much to get you bare-assed in the woods.”

“Punk.” Bucky growled, cutting off her giggle with another kiss.

*****

“Steve?”

“Hmm?” she jerked upright, “Sorry Peg, I didn’t catch that.”

The agent gave her a curious look but tapped a point on the map again. “I said our intel’s been confirmed. Dr Zola will be travelling through these mountains by train tomorrow. It’s our best chance to grab him.”

The blonde leaned in, tracing the train line with her finger. Zola was Schmidt’s closest subordinate; if they could get their hands on him, they might be able to figure out where the HYDRA leader’s main base was _and_ deprive him of his top resource. And they might be able to ask what the hell he’d done to Bucky too.

“I want him.” She clenched her jaw.

“We’ll move out as soon as possible then.” Peggy said.

“What about Morita?” Steve asked, glancing at the sleeping soldier.

“The doctors tell me he’s fine to travel. You can see him off before we leave.”

“He won’t be happy with that.”

Peggy frowned. “He’s in no shape to fight, Steve.”

The blonde sighed. “I know. Just stating the facts.”

“I trust if he objects, you’ll explain the situation?”

Steve nodded. “Sure. I’ll get the rest of the guys moving.”

She pushed her chair back, crossing the musty basement as quietly as she could. Steve had reached the main level and was about to start up to the attic when there was a low whistle.

“Buck?” she frowned, looking for the source.

The red confessional curtain twitched to one side, Bucky smirking at her as he leaned against the panelling. “Hey. Wanna make out in a house of God?”

Steve laughed, shaking her head. “Aren’t we in enough trouble with Him already?”

“Exactly. It’s too late to redeem ourselves, so we might as well have fun.”

The blonde’s smile faded. “I’d love to, but we’ve got orders. Head upstairs and pack, we’re leaving as soon as Jim’s on his way.”

Bucky straightened. “What’s the mission?”

“We’ve got an appointment with the doctor.”

The brunette’s eyes narrowed. “Zola?”

“Fancy a bit of payback?”

He smiled wickedly, rubbing a hand over his knuckles. “Try to stop me.”

 

Jones looked up, headset still pressed to his ear. “HYDRA dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he’s going, they must need him bad.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look, the brunette’s eyes glinting with keen satisfaction. Behind them Dernier and Dum Dum readied the zipline, Falsworth scanning the tracks through his binoculars.

“Let’s get going because they’re moving like the Devil.” He said, voice grim.

Steve grabbed the handle, shouting back over her shoulder. “We only got about a ten second window. You miss that window, we’re bugs on a windshield.”

Falsworth snickered. “Mind the gap.”

“Better get movin’, bugs!” Dum Dum whooped.

Steve shifted her grip, eyes only on the track far below, air cold in her lungs as she inhaled slowly. Then Dernier was shouting in her ear and she jumped, zipping across the ravine so fast her ears popped, eyes closed against the biting wind. The train pulled into view beneath her, the engine’s chug a steady beat. The roof got closer faster than she’d anticipated, and Steve let go to drop the last foot and a half and land in a crouch. There were two more thuds behind her as Bucky and then Gabe stuck the landing, the blonde glanced back at them with relief and a giddy, adrenaline-fueled grin.

They started forward, half bent at the waist to keep their balance, running along the roof of the train. Steve spotted a ladder leading over the side and carefully climbed down it. She drove her fist into the door just above the handle and the lock popped free, sliding open. The agent swung herself inside, scanning the compartment as she moved to let Bucky through. It was all metal, two-tiered shelves stacked with what were probably more energy packs. It was also empty.

Bucky slid the door closed again, the carriage instantly quieter. Steve looked at him and signalled for them to split up, the brunette nodding. They sidled towards the other end of the car, the shelves between them, Steve sliding one of her staves free of its sheath with an almost inaudible hiss as she drew her gun with the other. They reached the entrance into the next compartment and Steve held up her hand, Bucky pausing to let her go first.

As she stepped over the threshold, a heavy door snapped shut between them. Steve jerked around, smacking her palm into the window. Bucky spun, shooting at someone the blonde couldn’t see – but before she could panic too much about him, there was a loud whine behind her. She glanced back as a HYDRA troop holding two large-barrelled weapons aimed them both and pulled the trigger.

She ducked behind a metal crate, popping up to fire back at him. There were more gunshots from Bucky’s car but she couldn’t think about it, leaning out to try to get a better view of her attacker. He let loose another energy burst and she caught it on the edge of her stave, the force spinning her back into the wall. Steve shook her head to clear it, trying to get her weapons up to block the next salvo, and her gaze fell on the ceiling – and the sliding gantry that ran the length of the car.

She vaulted upwards, dodging another blast, and grabbed onto the frame. She pulled her legs up so her feet were aimed at the soldier’s head, her momentum carrying her down the track like a bullet. She collided with him hard, the heavy weight of his equipment taking him down with a thud that rattled through the floor. She dropped beside him and swung her stave into his head, the agent’s hands going limp at his sides.

 

Steve grabbed one of the enormous guns and fired it at the divider, melting a hole in the reinforced door. She ran through it, peering into the next carriage. Bucky was crouched behind a stack of crates by the entrance, firing over the gap; as she watched, his hammer clicked on an empty chamber, the brunette lunging back to cover and scowling at the gun. Steve ejected the magazine out of hers and hit the door control with her elbow, tossing it through.

Bucky caught it without looking, ditching his old one and jamming Steve’s into the weapon, and as she ran into the car he stood and fired at the enemy man hiding in a gap between the shelves. The blonde stopped, one leg still flying forwards as she swivelled her hips, feet driving into one of the long supply cases. It shot towards the HYDRA soldier’s head but he ducked out of the way, straight into Bucky’s next round. He dropped with a clang.

Steve straightened, fighting the rush of hormones that told her to jump Bucky’s bones right there and then.

“I had him on the ropes.” The brunette complained.

“I know you did.” Steve smiled, reaching for him.

There was a high-pitched ring from the doorway. Her gaze darted to the soldier she’d thought was dead as he aimed his cannons at them.

“Get down!” she shoved Bucky backwards into the wall, losing her balance. Her hand lashed out and grabbed the shelving, keeping her upright.

The blast hit the flat of her stave and bounced off, punching through the side of the train with a red and blue explosion – the side where Bucky had been standing. Steve screamed, a wordless cry that was ripped out of her without thought, stave dropping to the floor and rolling away. The agent readied to fire again, power cells whining. She was too exposed, scrambling to get to her feet as she ground her teeth, both staves out of reach; she was going to get hit. The blonde faced him and roared her defiance, dropping forward as she yanked the shelving with all her strength.

It flew across the carriage and hit the solid rim of the door so hard the metal crumpled, the soldier crushed between the twisted metal lengths. Steve flung herself towards the hole in the wall, leaning out.

“Bucky!”

He was hanging from a rail at the far end of the half-detached siding, swinging wildly above the abyss. Steve grabbed the nearest bar and edged out, watching her feet on the treacherous wreckage.

“Hang on!”

She inched closer, leaning out as far as she dared, arm outstretched.

“Grab my hand!”

The fastenings on Bucky’s handhold gave a little and he lurched downwards, reaching for Steve.

“Come on, you stubborn asshole!” she shrieked, trying to get closer, trying to close the gap.

 

The bolts snapped completely and Bucky fell with a scream, tumbling through the air until he disappeared from sight. Steve keened, the echoes mixing so they both reached her at the same time, her voice and Bucky’s entwined in her ears in a terrible harmony.

Steve fought for breath, the train’s speed making her feel like the air was rushing past too fast to catch. The metal under her hands groaned and shook, and she quickly shuffled back into the carriage, staring down at the still and silent void, momentarily paralysed.

It didn’t last more than a second though, anger welling up in her throat like battery acid. Steve grabbed her errant staff and clambered over the ruined shelf into the next carriage, picking up speed as she sprinted towards the engine car. She slammed into the door so hard she tore through it, the ruined metal screeching as it fell away. Jones was standing with a gun on Zola and a HYDRA agent, brows raised at her.

“Boss?”

“We have to stop the train,” Steve gasped, “Tell him to stop.”

“ _Stoppen den Zug_ ,” he barked, “What happened?”

“Bucky…” she shook her head, mouth still moving aimlessly, “Bucky fell.”

Gabe’s eyes widened and he shouldered his rifle, glaring at the engineer as he worked the controls. There was a deafening squeal as the brakes came on, and then they were slowing rapidly, snow-covered peaks whipping past.

“Steve,” Gabe glanced at her, “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna find him.” She snapped.

The soldier met her gaze calmly. “Boss, it’s a long way down. You know he couldn’t have survived that.”

“He could,” the blonde fisted her hands, glowering at Zola, “He did something, made Buck stronger. He could survive it.”

The scientist smiled nastily. “For your sake, Miss Rogers, I hope not. My grasp of the serum was not quite as complete as Dr Erskine. Your friend may survive, but not without some…damage.”

Gabe glanced between them as the train rolled to a halt. “I’ll radio the others to meet us. We can’t stay out here – we’re too exposed. We’ll get Zola to HQ while you look for Sergeant Barnes.”

She nodded blankly. “Sure.”

Her arm shot out, fist clipping Zola in the temple. The little man went down, glasses flying off his face with a clatter.

“Should be easier to keep an eye on them now.”

 

Steve searched the next car for anything that might be useful. There was a big mesh net holding some cargo crates in place; she ripped it off the wall and hung it over one arm. The carriage after that had a short length of rope, not enough to get her down the mountain but maybe enough to tie Bucky to her back for the climb up. She took it off its hook with trembling fingers, refusing to think about what she might find down there. What she really needed were some ice picks, but she had her staves; she just had to hope Howard was right about their durability.

Steve jumped out through the gaping hole in the side of the train and leaned over the edge, trying to find an easy way down. There wasn’t one. The blonde tried to calculate how far they’d travelled since the moment Bucky fell but she couldn’t remember exactly how long it had taken her to get to the engine; it had felt like forever. Figuring they’d gone at least a mile, maybe two, she started running down the track.

It took her a minute and a half to get back to the approximate spot, the agent’s gaze skimming the surrounds for something familiar, some landmark to guide her, but it all looked the same. The chasm stretched out below, the bottom too far away to see. She looped the rope coil across her chest, made sure the net was secure, and drew her staves. Steve closed her eyes in a desperate prayer, and stepped off the edge.

She fell fast, rocks flashing by, sometimes scraping against the toughened fabric of her coat. Steve kept her eyes pointed down, watching for obstacles, hoping for a sign of Bucky. The mountainside curved out sharply and she dug one stave into the ice, levering herself to the left to miss the jagged spar. Her teeth rattled in her skull as she swung into the rock face, bouncing back again into another freefall.

The walls got bumpier and the abyss narrowed until it was too dangerous to keep going. Steve caught herself on a ridge, legs dangling a hundred feet off the ground. She inched around the shelf until she could reach the cliff, driving one staff into it. She stabbed the other into the ice a little further down, hanging by her arms over the drop. She pulled the first staff out and stuck it in again lower, shifting two feet closer to the bottom.

Steve slowly made her way down, hands frozen around her batons, feet slipping against the icy wall as she fought for balance. By the time she reached the ground her muscles were screaming. She slid the staves back into their sheaths with a groan and turned, eyes sweeping the canyon floor.

“Bucky!”

There was no trace of him, no conspicuous shape in the snow, no dents where a body might have fallen.

“Bucky!”

Steve’s voice echoed off the mountainsides, returning to her ear quiet and alone. She adjusted her gear, brushed the sleet off her face, and started walking.

 

The handcar squeaked along the track, two soldiers pumping the lever as fast as they could. Peggy peered through the dim light of dusk, hand clenched tight around the protective railing. She could just make out a pair of figures standing on the other side of the bridge, one pacing, one looking over the cliff side. As they got closer their faces came into focus, both wearing the same stony expression. The handcar pulled up in front of the men, a soldier opening the gate so Peggy could climb out.

“Haven’t seen one of those in years.” Dum Dum smiled weakly.

“Desperate times,” the agent grimaced, “Where is she?”

Dernier flicked his cigarette into the snow and pointed to a climbing line hanging over the edge.

“She won’t come up,” Dugan sighed, “I’ve already tried.”

Peggy pressed her lips together. “Have you a harness?”

The big man nodded and grabbed one from his bag, handing it to her. Peggy slid it on and tightened the straps, Dum Dum checking them for her before clipping her to the rope.

“Bring her in, Peg.” He said quietly.

The brunette took a breath and bent down, feet braced against the brink. She pushed off, sliding down about ten feet before she swung back in, ankles jarring slightly as her feet met the wall. She pushed off and let the rope run through her gloved hands, dropping another ten feet.

It was a slow descent, especially with the light failing and the weather picking up, but she reached the ground without incident. Peggy unhooked her carabineer and looked around, the bottom of the abyss almost dark already.

“Steve?”

She took a small torch from her belt, shining it across the snow.

“Steve?”

A pair of footsteps led north and she followed them carefully, hunched against the wind. Peggy passed through a tight corner in the chasm and found Steve digging at the base of the cliff, ice and earth flying past her as she grunted.

“Steve!”

The blonde didn’t look up. Peggy ran over and grabbed her shoulder, the other agent reeling back in surprise.

“Peg?” she frowned.

“Steve, we need to go. It’s getting late, and once the sun sets the temperature’s going to get dangerously low.”

“Can’t go yet,” Steve shook her head, “We have to find Bucky.”

“You’ve been searching for hours and found nothing,” she said, voice pleading, “He’s gone, Steve. He must have fallen into a crevasse or been buried in the snow. We can’t stay here.”

 

The other agent put her hands over her face, sniffing. “I found his arm.”

“What?” Peggy’s brows shot up.

“His arm. It was at the bottom, tucked under a rock. It must have come off when he fell. There was blood everywhere, all over the snow. I…I didn’t want to move it.”

“Steve…”

“No,” she shook her head, “No, don’t tell me he’s dead because he’s not – he’s like me, Peg, he’s like me, Zola did something to him. He’s just wandered off somewhere, probably confused, and we have to find him before he freezes.”

“Zola was experimenting with the serum?” Peggy frowned.

“He was trying to recreate it, and Bucky was different – stronger, tougher. He’s alive, I know it.”

“Steve, even if the fall didn’t kill him, it’s been hours. He couldn’t have survived prolonged exposure to the cold with his injuries. You need to stop.”

“He didn’t vanish!” she yelled, “People don’t just disappear. He’s crawled away or someone’s found him – he didn’t just stop existing. I need him, Peg. I need him.”

The brunette knelt, folding Steve into her arms. “I know.”

The other woman let out a sob, frost-covered hands pressed awkwardly to Peggy’s back. Steve rested her face against the agent’s shoulder and let the tears she’d been holding back roll over her face, the wind freezing them into painful, icy trails. Her chest shook, voice ragged as she wept.

After a moment though, Steve sat back and scrubbed at her face. She turned back to the half-dug hole. “I have to keep looking. I can’t just leave him out here. He would never give up on me, never.”

Peggy bit her lip and reached out, grabbing Steve’s wrist hard enough that the blonde stopped. “You tried, Steve. You did more than anyone could have asked, but it’s time to stop now. Whether he’s alive or not, Bucky isn’t here. We have to go before nightfall.”

“I can’t, Peg.” Steve’s voice cracked.

“Make me a promise. I’ll help you look for another half hour, and if we haven’t found him by then, you’ll come back to base with me.”

“Peg-”

“No, “she said firmly, “I won’t let you kill yourself over this. Half an hour, and then we’ll leave.”

Steve met her gaze, eyes huge and frightened and desperate, but Peggy stared her down calmly. Finally the blonde bit her cheek, turning away.

“He’s not here.”

“No, he’s not.” She said kindly.

Steve stared mutely at the ground, finally nodding. She stood stiffly, brushing the snow off her knees.

“You shouldn’t be out here – you’re not dressed for it.”

“Neither are you.” Peggy pointed out.

The blonde shrugged, already walking away. “I can’t feel it anyway.”

*****

Steve was like a zombie the whole way back to London, oblivious to Dum Dum’s hand on her shoulder and Peggy’s attempts to talk about Zola. She managed to find her voice long enough to give a slow, terse report of events and then retreated to her quarters with the door bolted, laying under the covers with no interest in ever getting up again.

She hated Zola, and Schmidt, and HYDRA, but she couldn’t get angry enough to do anything about it because she was too busy hating herself for putting Bucky in that position, and for abandoning him. She knew he must have survived, no matter what the others said, and she’d given up. She never gave up, especially not on something that mattered as much as Bucky mattered to her.

The squad tried to visit but she ignored their knocks, turning away everyone but Peggy, and she only let the brunette in because she was a superior officer. They didn’t talk though, the other agent simply holding Steve’s hand as they sat on the bed, staring at nothing.

The blonde wasn’t sure how much time was passing; she didn’t really care, either. She knew she probably smelt disgusting, but she didn’t have the energy to shower or change out of her night things, and why should she? There was no going back to her old routine, not now. The world had become an empty place, and she was just another empty person watching it pass her by.

One day (morning? afternoon? she wasn’t sure) Peggy final broke the silence that had invaded every part of Steve’s existence.

“He wouldn’t want you to waste away.”

The blonde’s mouth felt numb, her lips too big. “He’s not here to say so, is he?”

Peggy placed a hand over hers. “You mustn’t blame yourself, Steve. You did everything you could to find him.”

“He shouldn’t have even been there in the first place.”

“Bucky was a grown man,” Peggy said, “He knew the risks and made his choice. I know you can respect that.”

“Morita’s injury, that’s all me too. Neither of them would have been hurt if I hadn’t forced Philips to give me a command.”

“And without you, Bucky would have died in that factory, along with Dugan and Jones and Morita and all the others. They volunteered, Steve. They wanted to help you.”

“I should have insisted he come back here and let Erskine check him over. Maybe they would have found a reason to take him off active duty, send him home.”

Peggy ducked her head until Steve was forced to meet her gaze. “And do you think he would have gone?”

The blonde huffed, folding her arms. “Probably not.”

 

There was a long pause, broken only by the faint sound of an air raid warning outside.

“You love him.”

“Of course.”

“Not like a brother.” Peggy smiled kindly.

Steve rubbed a hand over her shoulder and sighed. “Who told you?”

“Nobody. I have eyes, Steve. I saw the two of you. The only time either of you seemed at ease was when you were together.”

“It was…new,” she caught Peggy’s eye, “It wasn’t like that when I was a guy. We just…well, things changed.”

“I’m glad you got to have that, even if it was only brief.”

“I wish I hadn’t. You can’t miss something that never happened.”

The brunette gave her a sympathetic look. “You won’t feel like that forever. Once some time passes, you’ll be grateful for every wretched memory.”

Steve stared at the blankets. “Maybe.”

They sat quietly again, and Steve decided it was nice to have someone she could talk to about Bucky without it being weird. Peggy didn’t care that they were friends, or that Steve used to be a guy. She understood you couldn’t always control your emotions.

“You’re a good friend, Peg.”

“I just want to help. Is there anything else I can do?”

The blonde turned her gaze to the window and stood, pulling the curtains back. “I can’t keep sitting here. I gotta move or I’ll go nuts.”

“What are you going to do?” Peggy frowned.

Steve set her jaw. “I’m going to end it.”


	7. Epilogue

Steve watched the Cube burn a hole through the bottom of the plane and drop into the ocean.

“Good riddance.” She tugged her helmet off, running towards the controls.

The agent sat in the pilot’s chair and stared out at that inevitable, endless field of clouds, and thought of a day in the woods with the grass beneath her and nothing but Bucky’s face above.

“Come in, this is Agent Rogers. Do you read me?”

Morita’s voice crackled across the line. “Rogers, what is your-”

“Steve, is that you?” Peggy cut in, “Are you alright?”

“Peggy! Schmidt’s dead.”

“What about the plane?”

She made a face. “That’s a little bit tougher to explain.”

“Uh, give me your coordinates; I’ll find you a safe landing site.”

“There’s not gonna be a safe landing,” Steve frowned at the six red crosses on her screen, “But I can try and force it down.”

“I-I’ll get Howard on the line, he’ll know what to do.”

“There’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York. I gotta put her in the water.”

“Please don’t do this,” her voice broke, “W-we have time. We can work it out.”

“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die.”

Bucky’s ma. His sisters. Their friends. Steve wasn’t going to let him down again.

“Dammit Steve, as your superior officer I order you to find another solution.”

Steve sighed. “Peggy, this is my choice.”

The line was silent for so long she thought maybe the signal was gone, and a sudden terror of dying alone gripped her throat like icy hands.

“Peggy?”

“I’m here.”

“I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“Teaching me to be a proper girl.” The blonde smiled.

Peggy made a snuffly sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “It was my pleasure, Agent Rogers.”

She wanted to say a lot of things. She wanted to tell Peggy how scared she was, but it wouldn’t have helped. She felt like she should apologise for things not working out between them, but she certainly didn’t want anyone else hearing that. Instead Steve gripped the controls tighter, turning the plane towards the snow-covered ground.

“Tell me a story, Peg. Somethin’ wild.”


End file.
